


Tasteless

by windmila



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:55:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 51,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windmila/pseuds/windmila
Summary: Emily Dickinson wrote, "Because I could not stop for Death - He kindly stopped for me - The Carriage held but just Ourselves - And Immortality." Celeste wished she knew nothing of immortality, but being raised by a family of vampires made that nearly impossible. When a new human comes to town, Celeste's life will go in a direction she had never considered as a possibility.
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale, Carlisle Cullen/Esme Cullen, Edward Cullen/Bella Swan, Emmett Cullen/Rosalie Hale, Garrett (Twilight)/Original Female Character, Kate (Twilight)/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	1. Celeste

The sun streamed in easily – _delicately_ – through the long windows along the side wall. Everywhere in the house was quiet and yet, Celeste knew that her family had not shut an eye all night. Of course, this was to be expected, as they were “damned to an eternity of sleeplessness”, as her brother, Edward, had once said. Celeste, however, had indeed slept all night – dreaming deeply in a satisfying darkness that allowed her to smile as she opened her eyes to the light of the day around her. While this sounded akin to poetic nonsense, such was how Celeste awoke on most days as she grew up in the Cullen family. Her life thus far, though just several months from age eighteen, had been colorful, vibrant, and boundless. The opportunities surrounding her were immense and her future stretched out in front of her in such a way that made her breathless for adventure. The Cullens had given her everything – a home, a family, a life full of love – and she spent more moments feeling grateful for all that she had been blessed with than annoyed by the somewhat _supernatural_ lifestyle that had encased her very existence. It was this feeling – this wonderfully happy feeling – that greeted her as her eyes focused to the world around her on a cold January morning in Forks, Washington.

Celeste stretched, slowly moving her shoulder blades back and experiencing that delightful _pop_ as her body adjusted itself out of unconsciousness. She rolled her head around in a circle, sighing as the tension released and gradually ebbed away. The clock on her light-colored bedside table read 6:05A.M. and with a hop, she quickly made her bed – doing her best to emulate her mother’s vision with the placement of the throw pillows and soft decorative blankets. Her room was designed with soft minty green walls and white wood furniture with accents of bronze and taupe making their way into the room with the blankets and pillows. The room was spacious, with a large floor to ceiling bookshelf lining part of one wall and a bathroom (that followed the color scheme, of course) extending off the main bedroom. When Celeste felt she had done her best at assembling her bed, she found her way to her walk-in closet – a demand of her sister, Alice’s – and picked out a light gray-speckled sweater, light-wash jeans, a brown leather jacket, and lace-up ankle boots. She layered two dainty gold necklaces, one a choker style and the other average length, and put some small studs in her ears, filling the piercings in her lobes and cartilage. She had gotten a couple cartilage piercings in her ears for her sixteenth birthday and although she loved them, she constantly had to keep her long hair from snagging on them. After putting on some light make-up and taking one final look in the mirror, she went downstairs for some breakfast.

The youngest Cullen could not help the elation that welled up inside of her at the sight of her mother and father together in the kitchen, her father’s arm lightly encircling his wife’s waist as she made up a plate of peanut butter toast and fruit for Celeste’s breakfast. It was rare that they were both home before she and her siblings left for school – her father, Carlisle, had usually left for the hospital in Forks by the time she wandered downstairs. She grew used to seeing him only around dinnertime and when they spent leisurely family evenings together. Stopping just at the entrance to the kitchen, she smiled to herself as she watched her parents laugh quietly while looking sweetly in each other’s eyes. _They’re the best_ , she thought, _they’re absolutely the best_. Finally finding her legs again, Celeste moved over to the island counter to perch on a stool across from where they stood. 

“Good morning, sweetie,” Esme, her mother, greeted her with an always-adoring grin. She unwound herself from Carlisle to set down the pristine plate of food in front of Celeste and to brush a gentle hand over her daughter’s long, golden strawberry blonde hair. Celeste’s hair had a slight wave to it, especially around her face, and Esme always chose to run her fingers through it as a silent morning welcome. Celeste raised her eyebrows at the two of them briefly before responding pleasantly in return. Carlisle seemed to sense her unasked question, despite lacking obvious telepathy, because he stated suddenly:

“I took a later shift at the hospital today at your mother’s request.”

Celeste nodded and asked, “Any special reason why?” at the same moment that Esme, with inhuman speed, reached Carlisle’s side to nudge it playfully.

“I asked if you would have any time off soon, not if you would _take_ some time off.”

“Yes, I know,” Carlisle chuckled, “but any time I get to spend with you is quite welcome, my dear.” Esme shook her head at him and while they did not get overly lovey in the presence of Celeste, the gaze they shared spoke of an other-worldly admiration they held for one another. _All this before 7:00 A.M._ , Celeste joked in her head. An amused sound came from behind her and Celeste was unsurprised to see that Edward had appeared in the kitchen with them. He shot her a look that meant that he’d obviously heard her private joke. _Sometimes I’m funny_ , she thought. Edward quirked an eyebrow and gave an up-turn of his lips in response. Celeste shrugged.

When she had half-finished her toast and fruit, Emmett, Rosalie, Alice, and Jasper finally joined everyone else in the kitchen. They, as expected, were dressed impeccably – a stipulation of Alice’s – and leaned against various cupboards and counters (Alice actually flitted herself _on top of_ the island counter, right next to where Celeste sat) while they waited for Celeste to be done eating. Celeste eyed her sister’s runway-ready ensemble, taking significant notice of how lovely her emerald green dress and black lace tights complemented her dark hair and pale skin. The others talked casually, Celeste admittedly tuning them out to focus on the last remnants of peanut buttery goodness. She stood up silently to put her dish away in the dishwasher and had almost made it out of the room to brush her teeth when Alice, ever the observer, materialized by her side.

“Let me see,” she said excitedly, obviously referencing Celeste’s outfit.

“Do you want a spin?” Celeste asked, half teasing.

“Of course, I do, silly!” Alice replied with 100% seriousness. Celeste rolled her eyes good-naturedly but spun all the same.

“I like it,” Alice said after a moment, arms crossed, and mouth puckered thoughtfully, “It’s a good casual look but tomorrow, I think something dressier would be nice.” Celeste laughed, but found herself mostly proud that Alice had deemed her outfit worthy instead of asking her to change – something she sometimes did just to appease her firecracker fairy sister.

“Aye, captain,” she nodded and then ran back to her bedroom to brush her teeth and grab her book bag. By the time she made it to the kitchen again, her siblings had all congregated with their school things and stood waiting for her. Carlisle and Esme stood off to the side, ready to send her out the door with cold, comforting hugs. They each wished her a good day – Esme offering a tender smile while Carlisle was more reserved with a pleasant set to his lips.

“Bye mom, bye dad,” she said with a small wave, turning to Edward, who had the car keys, and the others. The Cullens ushered themselves into Edward’s shiny, silver Volvo with Celeste riding shot-gun so the couples could be together in the backseats. _Thank God_ , she thought gratefully as she spied Alice sitting cozily on Jasper’s lap. Edward stifled a snicker as he slammed the driver’s side door and she raised an eyebrow at him.

“I assure you,” he smirked, “I feel much the same way.” The two shared a laugh at their siblings’ expense as the Volvo’s engine purred to life. Alice, who had picked up on the fact that they were joking about _her_ , admonished them with a ‘hey!’ – causing Edward and Celeste to laugh even harder.

“Just drive, Edward,” Rosalie spoke over their dying laughter, words dripping with partial annoyance. Celeste rolled her eyes at this but saw Rosalie’s small smirk out of the corner of her eye. Rose liked to play the part of an eternal ice princess who lacked a sense of humor but really, when all was said and done, she had the sort of biting, unexpected humor that could leave Celeste’s sides in stitches – she just had to be in the right mood.

Edward’s driving always felt more like _flying_. He whizzed through the winding, tree-lined roads with a coordinated ease that evaded the human mind. Sometimes, Celeste had barely begun to settle into her seat when the car would suddenly slip into a parking spot – leaving her wondering how they had managed to arrive at the school in half the time. She tried not to think about how many miles her brother must have gone to turn a twenty-minute drive into an eight-minute drive. If she did, she might never get into the car with him again. Celeste leaned her head against the window, her mind relatively blank as she watched the green, lush scenery pass them by. Someone tugged at her hair from behind, so she turned in her seat to find Emmett grinning at her mischievously. He leaned over the armrest, beckoning her forward with his hand as if to share a secret.

“How much do you wanna bet there’ll be some rumor about us being in a cult?” There were some collective sighs from the others as he spoke.

Celeste looked at him like he had spoken gibberish, “Emmett. They say that rumor every day.”

“Yeah, but, how much do you want to bet that someone will bring it up to _you_?”

“Is this really how we want to spend our time?” she asked, “taking bets on the next outlandish conspiracy someone makes up about you guys?” Emmett smirked, waiting for her to give him the answer he wanted. She sighed.

“Ten dollars.”

“Make it twenty,” Emmett said, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back into his seat. This sort of conversation took place more than Celeste would care to admit, but when it did, Emmett’s overconfidence almost always spelled disaster. If he upped the bet, it was because he knew something she didn’t.

“Lord, Emmett,” Edward spoke, brow furrowed in a mixture of concentration and disbelief.

“What did you do?” Celeste asked, slipping her now-narrowed eyes back to her big brother. Emmett shrugged with mock innocence.

“Nothing.”

“He overheard someone discussing our… _appearances_ …how we all looked similar, but you looked different from us. Emmett decided to comment,” Edward jumped in, clearly disapproving of whatever Emmett had done.

“So,” Celeste asked incredulously, “What did you say?”

“I said, ‘Don’t worry, we had to go through an initiation to look this good,’” Emmett smiled smugly, looking perfectly pleased with himself for all of ten seconds before Rose whacked him on the head.

“ _Emmett McCarty_!” she scolded at the exact same time that Emmett exclaimed, “Ow! What the hell, babe?” She ignored him.

“That’s the sort of thing that could make people suspicious!” she exclaimed. “Not to mention, now those idiotic humans will most likely start asking Celeste questions…as if living with a family of vampires wasn’t difficult enough, now all these gossiping kids will be grilling her for details! Honestly, Emmett, did you even think?” Rosalie’s voice had taken on a shrillness to it, and if Emmett was human, his face would have surely drained of color. The energy in the car was tense for a few minutes, Edward and Jasper looking specifically uncomfortable due to their enhanced abilities.

Celeste could understand Rosalie’s reaction to a point – they had to move every few years as it was. In addition, any unwelcome attention – more than already surrounded them, anyway – could perhaps catch the eye of the Volturi, the supreme lawmakers of the vampire world. Telling a human about vampires was against the law – a law that the Cullens had decidedly broken when they adopted Celeste seventeen years prior. Although Carlisle had lived with the Volturi at one time and maintained an amicable relationship with the leader, Aro, they still would not take kindly to the fact that a human not only knew the vampire secret but _lived_ with a coven of vampires. The Cullens had taken many precautions when they had brought Celeste into their family which included only sharing her existence with their “cousin” coven in Denali – no other vampires knew of her presence in the Cullen home. Of course, this also meant that Celeste was almost always under surveillance by her overprotective, immortal siblings. While this annoyed her at times, she tried her best to understand their difficult position – they were part of a dangerous world, but having Celeste gave them a sense of humanity that they could not find elsewhere. Most importantly, though, they loved her in a loyal, unbridled way that surpassed that of a regular sibling relationship. Celeste would not have wanted to call anyone else her family.

For this reason, Celeste could understand why Emmett had said what he did. The gossip mill did turn out ridiculous rumors sometimes – they were aliens, Dr. Cullen had brainwashed them and indoctrinated them into a sex religion, Mrs. Cullen had been kidnapped and forced to adopt six teenagers against her will – truly, they were outrageous. Emmett, who, like all of them, hated feeling constantly on edge, probably made the comment as a satisfying way to let out some frustration. While she was nervous for any questions his joke might raise about her family, she did not feel nervous for herself – no one made up rumors about her.

Eventually, Alice broke through the tension in her usual cheery, jingle-bell voice, “Don’t worry, Rosalie. Everyone likes Celeste.” Celeste found herself wondering in that moment if Alice could read minds as well.

“It is true,” Edward agreed passively. He looked at Celeste now, “Thoughts of you are generally positive.”

“Feelings, too,” Jasper interjected quietly. Their gazes met, Celeste smiling softly at her sturdy, empath brother. He spoke less often than most but when he did, she made sure to listen. The two got along well, sharing a love of reading that could manifest into hours of engaging debate. Unsurprisingly, Jasper favored historical non-fiction over many other genres but also had many literary classics in his collection. Just last night, they had had a long-winded discussion about J.D. Salinger’s use of metaphor in _The Catcher in the Rye_.

“Thanks, Jazz,” she replied simply, knowing that he understood the unspoken part of her statement – _thank you for your kindness_. She sent a little wave of affection his way which earned her a tiny, lop-sided grin.

Rosalie grumbled angrily to herself and shook her head, “Optimism can lead to disappointment, which leads to carelessness, and carelessness could get us _killed_.” Her intense eyes flickered over each person in the car, and had Celeste not mentally reminded herself that Rosalie was her sister, she most definitely would have shivered.

* * *

Edward had pulled into a spot not long after things had turned frosty in the car. Rosalie barely waited a millisecond before sauntering off in the direction of her first period class without so much as a look back at the rest of them. Emmett let out a long sigh, shot them all a it’s-time-to-go-accept-my-fate shrug and made to follow his scary wife.

“Hopefully she doesn’t bite someone’s head off,” Celeste joked poorly, trying to make light of the situation. The other three chuckled, but it was half-hearted. _So much for trying to help_.

Edward’s head swiveled to her, his face poised to speak when a voice from across the parking lot shouted:

“Hey, Cullen!”

Celeste whipped around, seeing none other than baby-faced Mike Newton surrounded by some of her other friends at the other end of the lot. They motioned for her to come over. She turned back to her remaining three siblings, eyebrows raised ever so slightly.

Jasper had his face contorted in pain already, the scent of human blood in the air getting to him. Alice had her hands wrapped around his arm, acting like her husband wasn’t fighting the urge to go on a heinous killing spree. Edward just sort of nodded at her and she couldn’t tell if he approved of her friends (not that his opinion would affect her choice in company) or if he just tolerated her mild popularity. Not wanting to ditch them she said, “I’ll see them at lunch.” Alice waved her off.

“Go. We’ll see you later.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be rude,” she bit her lip, debating her options.

“Go,” Alice urged more forcefully, “go be with your friends.” Celeste didn’t miss the hidden meaning – _go be normal_.

“Okay,” she conceded, looking them over one final time, “see ya in a few hours!” She sent them a wave and the four parted ways.

When she reached her group of friends – Mike, Tyler Crowley, Angela Weber, Jessica Stanley, Eric Yorkie, Ben Cheney, and Lauren Mallory – she beamed.

“Hey guys!”

“Hey, Cel!” Jess greeted, her dark hair bouncing. Jessica may have been a big mouth, but the two girls had been good friends since Celeste had moved to Forks two years earlier. Lauren and Angela greeted her too and the four girls made superficial conversation for a few minutes.

“Have you heard about the new girl starting tomorrow?” Mike asked, face holding a sort of intrigued excitement. Jessica rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Michael, you’ve only mentioned it, like, five-thousand times.” For once, Jess was not exaggerating – Mike had indeed talked about nothing else for the past week and a half. Celeste giggled.

“I don’t get what the big deal is,” Lauren bit out, “why does everyone care so much about some new girl coming?”

“Because no one ever comes here…not of their own free will, anyway,” Eric snorted.

“Yeah,” agreed Tyler, “no one new has started since…” his eyes found Celeste. He did not hold a look of judgement or question but rather unapologetic truth. She understood, her siblings were not very… _sociable_ and it understandably raised some eyebrows. Her other classmates were uneasy around her brothers and sisters, especially when they were determined to be so antisocial. And yet, it made sense that people were uneasy around them – her family was comprised of deadly predators. So, instead of feeling offended or put out by her position as the family peacemaker, she laughed in agreement.

“Well, if we hadn’t moved, I wouldn’t have met all you wonderful people. And, let’s face it, your lives would be unbearably bland without me,” Celeste joked and sighed dramatically, earning her some laughs.

“The bell is going to ring soon,” Angela spoke quietly. Everyone started and then promptly began walking towards the front doors. The group said their goodbyes to each other, promising to talk more at lunch. Celeste and Eric grouped off together to head to their lockers and then to Mr. Mason’s English class. When they reached their lockers, they turned away from one another, falling into their own headspace for just a few last-minute moments before Mr. Mason passionately berated them on the symbolism involved in Shakespeare’s _King Lear_.

Celeste’s mind drifted from one topic to another, slipping into various tangents as she gathered the books for her classes before lunch – _English…Biology…Spanish…I wonder if Alice would let me borrow that dress…Did Alice have another vision about the Swan girl…Government_ –

“Hey, Celeste,” a deep, overly confident voice says from above her. She turns around, bringing her books to her chest, a surprised smile falling into place. Only, she isn’t surprised at all.

Jack Rivers stood there with a lop-sided smirk, hands shoved into the pockets of his lettermen jacket, and red-brown hair annoyingly tousled. _Oh God, here we go_ , she thinks, preparing for the unabashed flirting that was sure to come.

“Hey, Jack,” she greeted, voice a mixture of feigned politeness and exasperation. She tucked a piece of long hair behind her ear out of habit.

“You’re looking lovely this morning,” he said. His cockiness was palpable.

“Thanks,” _Good, Celeste, one-word answers and maybe he’ll go away._ Unfortunately for her, Jack Rivers had a large enough ego that he thought her short answers meant she was happily flustered by him.

He grins widely and shrugs like he’s doing her a favor, “Just call ‘em as I see ‘em.” Celeste lets out an airy laugh and nods, pretending to be flattered. _Gross._

“So,” he clears his throat, “that Spring Fling dance is in March, and I know that’s a couple of months away, but I wanted to ask early just so, ya know, no one beats me out.” Celeste’s eyes went wide. _Oh, for Christ’s sake._

“Was there a question in there somewhere or…?”

“Yeah,” Jack smiles lazily, “Do you want to go to the dance with me?”

“Uh, sorry. No, I don’t.” He laughs.

“No?” he snorts, “Did someone already ask you?”

“No, I just don’t want to go with you,” Celeste replies honestly.

“You don’t want to go with me?” He asks in disbelief.

She nods, “Yeah, I - ” She was going to say that she already promised to go with her friends as a group, just to be a little nicer, but then someone interrupted her.

“Hey,” the guy at the locker beside her spoke up, “don’t you have like a _conveyer belt_ of girls you can choose from or something? She told you no, just move on, dude.” The guy teased Jack easily, his words like good-natured mockery. He had laughing blue eyes and dark brown hair. Celeste decided she liked his eyes, they reminded her of Emmett’s even though this boy and her brother were physically unalike in many other ways.

Jack’s own eyes flashed, and he scowled, “Shut up, Jamie. I don’t see you finding a date anywhere.”

“That’s because you’re too busy worrying about yourself to think about other people. But what do I know? I’m only your twin brother,” Jamie shrugged, the little upturned edge of his lips making it clear he felt pretty proud of himself.

Jack grumbled at this, flicking his focus between Celeste and Jamie before grumbling “asshole” under his breath and stalking away. Celeste and Jamie watched him leave, the second of the two maintaining a fast-growing grin on his face. Jamie turned to Celeste to give her a knowing look and went to head to Mr. Mason’s room. Celeste, suddenly realizing that this boy was in her English class, made to fall into step at his side.

“So,” she said, “did you suck all of the integrity out of the womb and he took all the ego?”

Jamie snorted, “Don’t be rude. I also have an expansive knowledge on how to use Microsoft Excel.”

“An important skill,” Celeste chuckled as the two entered their class, Eric having been temporarily forgotten.

“It’s good for scheduling out how exactly to avoid my brother.”

“I can imagine that requires thoughtful planning and stealthy precision.” The two found their seats, Jamie sitting two desks down from Celeste.

“If by stealthy precision you mean staying in my room until he leaves then, yeah. Definitely stealthy.”

“The stealthiest,” Celeste agreed, allowing for one final shared laugh before the bell rang and they had to focus their attention on Mr. Mason’s lecture.

* * *

By the time lunch rolled around three periods later, Celeste and Jamie had become fast friends. He also happened to be in her Government class she shared with Angela and Ben. The four were now making their way to the cafeteria building, talking animatedly about their distaste for Mr. Jefferson and his monotonous voice. Celeste sort of spaced out then, finding it odd how she could have gone from barely knowing who Jamie was to developing a friendship with him in a space of just a few hours. They both had a similar dry, dead pan sense of humor that made their discussions flow unobstructed. When they reached the cafeteria doors, Jamie went to sit at his table with some of his friends. Celeste couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed.

“I didn’t know you and Jamie were friends,” Ben commented. Celeste shrugged.

“We kind of just became friends today, actually. His brother asked me to the Spring Fling and I turned him down…Jamie sort of made some jokes at his expense that made him finally go away,” Celeste explained all of this nonchalantly. The earlier discomfort of Jack Rivers asking her out was almost completely forgotten. Angela, however, went wide eyed as she listened and leaned toward Celeste conspiratorially.

“You mean Jack Rivers asked you to the dance and you said no?” She wasn’t asking it in a gossipy or intrusive way but more like she wanted to understand the facts.

“Yeah,” Celeste replied, “the guy more or less pesters me everyday and he’s too arrogant for his own good. Why would I want to go on a date with someone like that?” Angela nodded in understanding.

“Good for you. Most people would probably have said yes just because he’s an athlete,” Angela’s gaze unintentionally found Jessica and Lauren as she said this which made Celeste let out a little chuckle.

“Thanks, Ang.”

After purchasing some soup, fruit, and bottled water, Celeste followed her friends to their lunch table. She spotted her siblings sitting at their usual table by the windows. All five pairs of eyes found hers and she offered them a happy wave as she sat down. That familiar twinge of guilt bubbled up inside of her as she did this, she could never shake the instinct that her brothers and sisters were secretly put out that she didn’t sit with them every day. In fact, she didn’t sit with them even half of the time.

When they had first moved to Forks two years ago, she sat with them at first and then she had made friends – friends who wanted her to eat lunch at their table. It was only occasional in the beginning but now, two years later, her friends’ table became her primary lunch destination. Celeste constantly asked her family if it bothered them and they always _said_ no but sometimes their stares told otherwise. For instance, right now, Alice kept glancing at her with pouty eyes and then immediately transforming her lips into a bright smile when Celeste could feel her eyes burning holes in the back of her head. The rest of them were much subtler, of course, but even Jasper slouched a little in his seat. Celeste knew that her siblings loved her, but she would have never thought her absence at their lunch table would be this missed.

“ _Celeste_!” Jessica squawked beside her so loudly that Celeste counted herself lucky that she had any hearing left in her right ear. Jessica gripped her arm excitedly, talking quickly:

“ _Jack Rivers asked you to the dance_?! How did I not hear about this until now?” Jessica rambled on giddily, making Celeste want to bash her head against a wall. 

“Because I turned him down?” Celeste questioned, “and, why does everyone care so much?” She knew the answer to that as she asked it – it was a small school, small town – but it didn’t stop her from wondering it inwardly.

_“You turned him down_!?” Jessica yelped.

“Yes?”

“Why?” Jessica was taking this like Celeste had committed a person affront to her person.

“Like I’ve explained to several people already today – I turned Jack Rivers down because I don’t like him. He’s annoying and rude and I have zero interest in going to a dance with him,” the guys at the table were forcing down laughter when Celeste finished talking and Jessica crossed her arms and sighed.

“Fine. I get it, I guess. I still think you’re crazy, though.” Celeste snorted and shook her head.

“Okay, Jess.”

Toward the end of lunch, Celeste grabbed her backpack and stood up with her empty tray. “See you later, guys,” she said, earning some goodbyes in return. Celeste dumped her trash into the nearest can, resting her tray on top of the other dirty lunch trays. Then, tucking her hair behind her ear, she made her way to her siblings’ table. She pulled out a chair, plopping into it with relative ease.

“So, how’s everybody’s day going?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest cheekily. She received amused gazes from the others – Rosalie included. This made Celeste curious.

“What?” she asked when no one said anything. They just continued to stare with their darkening, slightly unnerving eyes.

“Same as always,” Edward answered finally, “Though, plenty of talk about the Chief’s daughter starting tomorrow.”

“How was _your_ day, Sloostie?” Emmett asked, using her childhood nickname. Celeste leaned forward, arms on the table. The smirk on his face told her everything she needed to know.

“Just _fine_ , Em. Why do you ask?” Celeste mimicked his tone with a face of indifference.

‘“ _Just call ‘em as I see ‘em_ ,”’ Emmett quotes, using Jack’s words from that morning. The usually stoic vampire siblings started laughing – Emmett quite raucously. Celeste, trying to maintain the façade that she was unamused, stuck her tongue in her cheek and did her best to look annoyed.

“Right. I’m glad you all are enjoying this.”

“Damn,” Emmett boomed between laughs, “you were so blunt, Sloost! ‘Was there a question in there?’ if I could die, that would have killed me. Nice one, sis.” He held his fist out and Celeste, now dropping the act and joining in the fun, bumped it.

When they had all calmed down, Alice piped up, “So, are you not going to the dance at all?” she frowned, seemingly unhappy about the prospect, “I had seen you in the prettiest dress…”

“Oh, no,” Celeste replied, “I’m going, I’m just not going with _him_.” Edward glanced at her, a ghostly smile pulling at his mouth and shook his head.

“You’re certainly something else, sister mine.” Celeste grinned affectionately back at him. The bell rang then, and Celeste gathered up her things. Alice kissed Jasper’s cheek sweetly before stitching herself to Celeste’s side so they could go to their shared Trigonometry class. They said goodbye to the others and then walked off arm-in-arm to building five.

“You have gym with that boy, don’t you?” Alice asked after a few moments. Celeste groaned as she remembered that yes, she did indeed have the unfortunate pleasure of sharing her last period of the day with none other than Jack Rivers.

“Great,” she groaned, “I don’t even want to know how awkward that is going to be.” Her sister stiffened, eyes spacing out into the void. Celeste knew what was happening, but it did not stop her from worrying for the shorter girl. No matter how many visions she’d seen Alice have, she always gained an unwarranted sense of panic in the pit of her stomach.

“What? What is it?” Celeste clutched at her arm. Alice snapped out of the vision immediately, smiling slyly in a most dangerous way.

“I think everything will be _just fine_ , Celeste. You’ll see.” _I’m doomed, then. Aren’t I?_

* * *

Celeste Cullen was lucky to be coordinated. Gym class would have been her own personal hell on earth if she wasn’t. As it was, she could pass the volleyball without hitting anyone and even served the ball successfully a few times. She was no star athlete by any means but at least no one made jokes at her expense.

It was at the end of gym class when it happened. She’d been laughing along with Jessica and Mike as they left the locker room. Celeste had almost made it to the exit doors when Jack Rivers sidled up beside her.

“Celeste! Hey!” _Boundaries, dude. There are boundaries._

“Hey, Jack,” she said, sounding less than excited. Jack didn’t seem to notice.

“Nice serve earlier. You’ve got a good arm.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Jack ran a hand through his hair. Celeste had to keep from gagging.

“Would you maybe want to go get something to eat sometime? I mean, I know you can’t go to the dance, but I thought, ya know, maybe you’d want to do something a little more…lowkey?” _What the hell is happening?_ She didn’t say anything for a minute which gave the exceedingly more irritating boy enough of a time window to stick his foot further in his mouth.

“We could do something else, how about after school? I doubt you have much going on…” he continued on, but Celeste stopped paying attention.

“Pump the brakes a second. One, I am going to the dance, but I am most certainly not going with you. Two, I do not want to hang out with you in any _lowkey_ way and so I’ll ask you nicely to never ask me out again. And three, I _am_ busy from here until the end of time as far as you’re concerned. Now, I am going home. I hope you have a _great_ day.” Celeste had gone red-faced by the end of her speech and she fled to the parking lot, heart beating against her ribs.

Her siblings were waiting for her at the car, leaning against it with expressions on their faces that proved they had heard all that she had said. Edward raised his eyebrows at her as she approached.

“Just drive,” she said.

They were halfway home before anyone uttered a word.

“Nicely done,” Rosalie commended – angelic voice filled with poise and tact. Celeste smiled freely, now that her heart rate had regulated itself.

“Thanks, I think. I know that I was kind of mean but he is just so _irritating_.” She got some chuckles as she said that.

“His thoughts are less than favorable,” Edward agreed, eyes focused needlessly on the road ahead.

“I could have guessed that from what he lets come out of his mouth,” Celeste joked.

When they pulled into the driveway, Celeste got out first, wanting to get up to her room first so she could take off her jewelry – save for her small charm bracelet with the Cullen crest on it – and change into comfier clothes. She almost went immediately back downstairs to join her family but then opted to stay in her room for a while to do her homework.

Two hours later, Celeste had finished her work and finally decided to head down to the family room. Upon her descension, she noticed her mom straightening up and smoothing out the couch and throw pillows. No else appeared to be around and she wondered briefly if they had gone out hunting. They would need to soon, if they hadn’t – their eyes were beginning to darken enough to resemble a hungry shark’s. Esme’s head popped up at the sight of her human daughter and she walked over to her with open arms to wrap her into a motherly but cold hug.

“How was your day, sweetie?” her mom beamed as she pulled back, swirling her fingers into the ends of Celeste’s hair to play with them adoringly. Celeste relished in the feel of her mom playing with her hair. The sensation reminded her of when she would sit on Esme’s lap as a little girl – maybe 5 or 6 years old – while she would stroke her hair if she needed some comforting. Granted, the vampire could still hold Celeste on her lap with ease but to respect her independence, she refrained.

“My day went pretty well,” Celeste answered, “How was yours? What time did dad go into work?”

“I had a nice day,” Esme hummed, “He went in at nine this morning. I expect he will be home in a couple of hours.” Celeste nodded her head. They were both quiet for a minute.

“Hey mom,” Celeste began with an inquiring tone.

“Yes, honey?”

“Can I ask you something?” Esme gave her a teasing admonishing look.

“You can always ask me anything. You know that.” Celeste looked down and shook her head.

“I know,” she sighed. Esme took Celeste by the shoulders and stared in her daughter’s gray-green eyes.

“How about we sit down?” Esme guided Celeste to a newly-fluffed cushion, wrapping her arms around the human girl and continuing to run her hands through her gold, slightly strawberry hair. Celeste lifted her gaze to Esme after a few long seconds and then relayed the entire Jack Rivers story from earlier in the day to her. Esme listened intently, not speaking once until Celeste had surely finished.

“So, I guess what I’m wondering is if I was too mean?” Celeste asked at the end of her tale, “Or do you think I was, at least a little, justified?” Esme saw the girl wince a little as if afraid of her response. Esme thought for a vampiric second.

“No,” she responded, “I think you were right. Evading him and avoiding confrontation would have only made things worse. And, this at least saves you from being bothered when you should be thinking about school.” Celeste giggled at that. _The most mom response ever._

“Thanks, mom. I really needed that. I would have worried about it forever.”

“Forever is a long time, Celeste,” she responded, eyes slipping into her thoughts for the smallest of seconds, “But yes, I know what you mean.”

They sat on the couch for a while longer, letting time slip by as they traversed through some trivial, funny, and less serious topics. The conversation only ended when Emmett, followed by Rosalie and a frowning Carlisle, burst unceremoniously through the back door.

“Hey, it’s The Bloodless Wonder!” Emmett boomed at her, his face transforming into an infectious, dimpled smile. Celeste found herself laughing at his antics despite the others in the room being less-than-amused. He hadn’t called her The Bloodless Wonder in a long time – so long, in fact, she had almost forgotten about it completely.

“Yes, the odorless, mortal vigilante strikes again.” Emmett was thoroughly pleased that she chose to play along. Emmett thumped down beside her on the couch, almost sending her into the air with his force.

“You have so many nicknames,” he said, holding out his hand to count his fingers, “The Bloodless Wonder, Super Sloost, Sloostie, Celestial…what should we call you now? Resident boy destroyer?” Celeste rolled her eyes.

“Emmett, come on, I only turned down the one boy. I think a new title is a little excessive.”

“Emmett,” Esme gently chastised.

“What’s this about a boy?” _Thanks, Emmett._ Celeste turned to face her father, ready to explain the situation.

“Celeste got asked to the dance today,” Alice answered out of _nowhere_. Carlisle quirked an eyebrow and fixed Celeste with a semi-surprised look. A second later, his expression changed to mild disappointment before shifting back to neutral.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Carlisle,” Edward chimed in, “but Celeste turned him down in as polite a way as the circumstances allowed.” Edward leaned against the railing in the middle of the stairway, hiding his enjoyment from her embarrassment all too well.

“Celeste was politer than that idiot deserved,” Rosalie threw in nonchalantly.

“Suffice to say,” Jasper cleared his throat, “things were a bit _tense_ today.” Her siblings kept adding different remarks about the events of her day until Celeste tuned them out and finally said, in a sarcastic tone:

“Ya know, this whole vampires-for-siblings thing is suddenly very unappealing.” Everyone stopped talking and in the midst of their snickers, Alice’s eyes went glassy. She stumbled from the intensity of her own clairvoyance but Jasper’s hands landed on her waist to immobilize her before she totally lost her balance.

“Alice,” Edward breathed out, clearly unnerved by her vision. The rest of the family turned to the small vampire girl, waiting for her to speak.

She blinked rapidly, eyes flicking over her family without seeing them.

“The Chief’s daughter is going to be more important than I originally thought.”

_Why is every ominous warning always so cryptic?_


	2. Isabella "Bella" Swan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which one Isabella Swan stumbles into the hearts of the Forkians and Celeste and Jamie are on the verge of shenanigans.

The next day at school came at Celeste in a frenzy of electric, crackling nerves. Every mention of the new girl’s name – _Isabella Swan_ – caused Celeste’s muscles to contract as if to brace for an on-coming impact. This girl was hurtling at her family, her home, her _life_ like an uncharted meteorite zooming through the atmosphere – and she hadn’t even met her yet. After Alice’s unnerving revelation the night before, her family of vampires had given _that look_ , the look she dreaded, the look that meant _not for human ears_. Esme had ushered her to the kitchen, her perfect, caramel curls untethered despite her gracefully harried dinner preparations. She whipped together a vegetable lasagna that, even though it tasted delicious, was not enough to redirect Celeste from the drama ensuing a floor below them. When she’d finished, her mom had all but ripped her dirty dishes from her hands, and though Celeste had wanted to demand some answers, she resigned herself to hiding out in her bedroom until sleep forced her mind to shut off.

So now, she stood at her locker, eyes blind to the movement around her, as she silently awaited the world to end. Her siblings had acted like they did every day in the car that morning, but that did not mean that she believed their little show of normality. No, something was coming, something that would shatter everything she once knew and believed. She didn’t know it yet, but she would know it soon. Celeste must have been staring at the books in her locker like they’d been left by alien life-forms because someone tapped her shoulder sarcastically – if an action like that could _be_ sarcastic – and she turned to see the better Rivers boy raising his eyebrows at her.

“Did someone leave a dead body in your locker or something?” Normally, Celeste would have said something witty in a similar tone, but today, due to her frazzled mind, she reacted more like this:

“What? What are you-? Oh, right! No, no dead bodies. Just, ya know, me…standing…here.” The fumble was enough to jolt Celeste into reality, finally breaking her out of her paranoid fog. Now, she was totally aware at how awkward she must have sounded, and the situation was not unlike standing frozen while watching a train wreck unfold. She winced just as Jamie’s eyes showed signs of actual concern.

“Er, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Celeste sighed, slamming her locker and slumping against it, “I just had a crappy night’s sleep is all.” She hated that she had just made up an excuse for her weird behavior – a byproduct of lying for her family for the last seventeen years – but she didn’t know what else to say. It wasn’t exactly a lie – she hadn’t slept amazingly the night before – she just wasn’t tossing and turning. Instead, her sleep had been more so filled with dreams involving some faceless human girl that tirelessly wreaked havoc on her family’s life in unseen ways. Celeste didn’t quite know how to describe them, but the dreams had left her confused and more than mildly tired in the morning.

“I get it. Did you have some weird-ass dreams or something?” Celeste nodded.

“I guess you could say that,” she shrugged.

“Huh. Well, I used to have this one where these floating cow udders followed me around and squirted toxic milk in my eyes,” Jamie said off-handedly. Celeste turned an astounded gaze to him. _Only this guy would say something that would make me totally forget how weird I acted two minutes ago._

“A floating…cow udder?” Celeste questioned, barely containing her laughter.

“Yeah. I used to get that dream all the time. Right when the toxic milk would be coming towards me, I would wake up.” Jamie shrugged like that was the most normal thing in the world. Celeste pressed her lips together and nodded, looking away in amusement.

“When I was really little, I peed my pants at the milk part.”

“O…kay,” Celeste said, “I think you’ve accomplished your goal. I officially feel so much better.”

“Oh, I wasn’t telling you that to make you feel better.” Celeste’s eyes went big.

“No?”

“No. I told you that so you could make _me_ feel less crazy. So what’s the craziest dream you’ve ever had? Flesh-eating ants? Intergalactic sperm?”

“Intergalactic _sperm_? Have you had a dream about that?” Celeste clutched at her sides, laughing uncontrollably. Jamie shrugged again, comically unaffected.

“Sure. Your dream please, madam?” He extended his hand out to her with an overexaggerated but uncoordinated flourish.

“Uh. I had a dream about a lion that was every color of the rainbow and flashed like a neon sign once,” Celeste threw out, scrunching her face up in thought.

“Hey, nice,” Jamie approved, “sounds more like an LSD trip, though. You sure you’re okay, Celeste?” Celeste rolled her eyes.

“Shut up.”

The bell rang then, signaling Jamie and Celeste to quit their banter and forge their way into English. Being among the first to enter the classroom, they both settled into their desks, pulling out their _King Lear_ annotations that had been assigned for the previous night’s homework. Celeste had been about to turn around and make a last-minute joke to Jamie when a new face entered the room.

The girl had long, brown hair that turned into spirals toward the ends. Her skin was fair – maybe only a shade or two lighter than her siblings impenetrable, immortal pigment. She dressed casually and while there was a soft prettiness to her, she seemed quiet, shy, and most definitely reserved. Mr. Mason signed the girl’s slip and she went to a seat– conveniently near Celeste – with her head ducked down. Celeste couldn’t decide if she wanted to introduce herself or if she wanted to wait a while. The girl, officially identified as Isabella Swan, kept eyeing the floor like she wished it would swallow her whole. Celeste decided it would be best if she held off for now.

Celeste spent the entirety of English dividing her attention between pretending to listen to Mr. Mason’s lesson and staring at the Swan girl. She didn’t _look like_ she intended to commit an abhorrent act against another human (or inhuman) being. Honestly, she looked bored and like she was enduring some kind of personal torture. _Like Edward_ , Celeste scoffed to herself.

When the class ended, Celeste watched as Isabella packed up her things and Eric scurried over to her, ready to be of assistance to Forks’ brand-new resident. Isabella evaded him somehow and exited the classroom otherwise unattached.

* * *

Unlike the day before, Celeste didn’t walk with Angela, Jamie, and Ben from Government. She’d had a few questions on the study guide Mr. Jefferson had passed out in class and had stayed behind to ask about them.

Celeste was now walking briskly to the lunch room, hand feeling for the zipper on her bookbag to take out the lunch Esme had made for her this morning. She suspected her gourmet meal had more to do with preoccupying her mom’s mind than providing Celeste with a nutritious lunch, but Celeste chose to disregard this and let herself get excited to eat some of Esme’s cooking. She made her way to her lunch table but someone sitting sandwiched between Angela and Jessica made Celeste stop rock still in the middle of the lunch room. There, between one wretched gossip and one level-headed altruist, sat Isabella Swan. _Right, Celeste. She’s just sitting at your lunch table. Nothing diabolical._ Celeste forced her feet to work, pulling a pleasant expression onto her face.

“There she is!” Mike exclaimed, causing Celeste to flinch.

“Bella here was just asking about your family. Bella, this is Celeste Cullen.”

“She’s the cool Cullen,” Mike joked under his breath. Celeste sent him a glare that he conveniently missed.

“Celeste,” Jessica cleared her throat, “this is Bella Swan.” _Bella, right._

“Hey,” Celeste greeted her, noticing her eyes were brown for the first time. They were a warm, chocolate color and Celeste thought they were pretty against her light skin.

“Hey,” Bella replied. “We’re in, uh, English class together, right?” Celeste nodded, her smile quickly becoming more genuine. She chose then to take a seat next to Bella.

“Yeah. Mason’s absolutely enthralling, isn’t he?” Bella laughed just a little.

“Definitely.” The silence hung for a beat.

“So, Bella. What else do you have on your schedule?” Bella pulled out her schedule for the other girl and the two looked it over together for a minute or two.

“Looks like we have gym together. Coach Clapp isn’t terrible,” Celeste shrugged, “We’re on a volleyball unit right now.” Bella groaned.

“I’m terrible at volleyball. I tripped over myself and took another girl down with me once.”

“I’m sure you’re not _that bad_ ,” Celeste laughed. Bella just gave her a look that made her think the maybe she would be eating her words.

* * *

Bella was _that bad_. She knocked one girl in the back of the head with the volleyball and ran more like a lazy ostrich than a seventeen-year-old girl. Celeste struggled to hold her composure together as she watched Bella cringe away from an oncoming ball that had been set over the net. Her hands went to her face instinctually and she looked ready to throw herself to the ground as a means of protection. Celeste sighed, feeling affectionately sympathetic, and decided to saunter over to the shorter girl.

“If it comes to you, just smack it to me,” Bella looked up wide-eyed at this. Something passed in her eyes like uncoiling recognition accompanied by a small flash of hurt. Bella covered quickly with a close-lipped smile.

“Are you sure? I don’t think I can promise I won’t whack you in the shoulder,” she snorted breathily.

“Yeah, of course,” Celeste replied with ease, shrugging lopsidedly. Bella pushed some hair behind her ear out of what Celeste assumed was either awkwardness or shyness.

“O-okay. Cool, thanks.”

Celeste gave her a friendly nod.

“No problem,” she said and jogged back over to her spot. To Celeste’s surprise, Bella successfully passed the ball to her (successfully meaning Celeste wasn’t going to walk away with any bruises) and avoided inflicting harm to any others or herself. _Well_ , Celeste thought, _maybe this won’t be so bad after all_.

In the locker room, Celeste chatted easily with Bella Swan, discussing the teachers here and cracking some jokes at their expense. When they had gathered up their stuff and were prepared to walk out to the parking lot, Bella turned to her deliberately in a way that made Celeste feel a cold shiver run up her spine.

“Can I ask you something?” _Shit_.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Do I smell bad?” _Thank God_.

Celeste leaned forward just a bit, keeping an eye on personal space, and took a small whiff.

“Other than smelling like we just got out of gym class, no. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Huh. Okay, thanks.” Celeste nodded but furrowed her eyebrows.

“Why?” Bella’s cheeks flushed and she looked down to pick at the hem of her shirt.

“Uh, I don’t know. Just…” she trailed off and Celeste could tell that whatever came next most likely wouldn’t be the truth.

“Probably just first day jitters or something like that.” Bella shrugged as she said this. Celeste gave her a long look and then shrugged herself.

“The first day is the hardest but I’m sure everything will turn out okay,” she touched her shoulder, “believe me, I’ve done this more than once.” Bella smiled a little.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right. Well, I’m gonna go. See you tomorrow, Celeste.” Bella turned and walked off to the exit doors while Celeste uttered a goodbye. She stared at the new girl for a moment, one eyebrow just slightly more elevated than the other before pulling out her phone.

There was one message.

**From: Alice**

**Come straight to the car when gym is over.**

_Oh, for the love of all that is holy._

* * *

Rosalie happened to be positively fuming when Celeste reached the car. Her dark eyes had taken on a certain predatory glint that made Celeste almost have to force herself into the seat. She watched Rose complain for a long while, wondering if her sister’s flaxen hair would somehow burst into flame. From what she could gather from the fast-paced articulation whirling around her, Bella and Edward had Biology together. Apparently, Bella smelled a bit more _appetizing_ to him than the average human. After the class ended, Edward had tried to change his schedule but when this proved futile, he just stayed in his car until the day ended.

Without thinking Celeste found herself saying, “She – Bella – asked me if she smelled bad after gym class today.” Whatever the others had been discussing had completely dropped out of the air and their heads whipped to her in an almost comically dramatic way. No one said anything, so she continued.

“I thought maybe she was just being self-conscious, but if you were glaring at her like you say you were…” Edward’s expression grew hard and he gripped the steering wheel tight.

“She suspects then,” Jasper stated, his voice assertive and assuming in such a way that Celeste could see the boy that had lied smoothly to join the Confederate army. Alice patted his arm with affection.

“Not necessarily,” Celeste countered, “I don’t think she suspects anything, but I think you definitely freaked her out.” Jasper eyed her cautiously from the corner of his eye, proving he did not quite believe her. Celeste shrugged, not overtly concerned about the feelings of her siblings in that moment. For once, she was not the center of attention and she relished it.

When they got home, Celeste did her homework upstairs – mainly to avoid any strategy planning concerning Forks’ newest resident. She only emerged when she heard the gentle open and close of the door around dinner time, alerting her that Carlisle had finished his shift at the hospital. She took the steps two at a time, now dressed in lounge clothes for the evening.

“Hey dad!” she greeted, catapulting herself at Carlisle for a hug. Though not always the quickest to respond to physical affection, he returned the hug easily, sending his youngest child an adoring smile.

“How was your day, Celeste?” he chuckled, pulling away to gauge her face for an answer. Celeste shrugged one shoulder before replying.

“Pretty uneventful for me. Can’t say the same for _some people_ …” She’d meant it as a tease but the expression on Edward’s face made her bite her tongue. Carlisle sighed.

“Yes,” he patted her shoulder, “I was informed of the rather _inconvenient_ circumstances.” Before she could say another word, Esme waved her over for a plate of fettucine alfredo.

“Here,” she said, brushing her daughter’s hair, “tell me if you like it.” Celeste smiled and nodded before taking a seat. She could tell – considering the congregation of vampires in the room – that an important conversation would be taking place. From what she could deduce – though she tuned most of it out – there were three options. Edward could leave, the Cullen’s could kill Bella and leave town, or Edward could stay and tough out his unwitting desire for the new girl’s blood. Jasper, Rosalie, and Emmett (by default) were more on par with self-preserving murder. Celeste’s skin started to crawl and so she laid down her fork that had been half-wound with fettucine noodles.

“Wild idea but,” she began, “how about we don’t kill Bella and Edward just grows a pair, goes on a hunt, and sticks around?” For the second time that day, the Cullens whirled their heads to her and stared like she’d started a chinchilla genocide.

“Celeste Amelia Cullen!” Esme and Rosalie said at the same time, though in varying tones. Esme sounded shocked while Rosalie most definitely meant to be scolding. _Well_ , she thought, _now’s a good of a time as any_.

“Celeste,” Edward warned, the skin between his eyebrows crinkling together as he read her speeding thoughts.

“I don’t want to move again. I feel like I’ve been agreeable the last seventeen years, going along with the facades, lying for everyone. But, I don’t like being a liar and I most definitely will not be a part of murdering some harmless girl – even if its only pretending like I don’t know what happened. I know that you’ve all graduated school like ten-thousand times, but this is just my first time – my only time – and I want to finish here. So, honestly Edward, just suck it up so we can all get at least one more year out of this place,” Celeste had taken to standing during her moment of adrenalized courage, but now that the electrifying pulse was fading away, she sat down forcefully to look down at the floor. She knew that several pairs of black eyes were scrutinizing her every movement. The panic that now set in was unlike any other she’d experienced – it was the half-exhilarated, half-ashamed feeling of defying one’s family for the first time. She could feel hot, sticky bile rising in her throat. When no one said anything, Celeste sucked in a breath and then slowly raised her head to meet their molten stares.

Celeste took in the scene in front of her and prayed that she hadn’t spoken up for nothing. She loved her family with all that she had, but they could not be a family of killers. They worked so diligently to break that stigma – to hold tight to their humanity – that she would not allow them to choose destruction over peace.

Esme’s face cut her the worst. She could see the pain etched in her tight eyelids and her lips which were parted in shock. Her mother’s hand rested ever so lightly on her stomach, as it did during all stressful situations having to do with her children. The gesture was unconscious – involuntary – though the sadness in it was not lost on Celeste. Guilt washed over her then and she recalled a morning several years prior where Esme sat Celeste on her lap and brushed the soft waves of her hair. She’d told her about the baby she had lost, about the husband who had left his inky mark on her heart, about the devastation that had led her to a jagged cliff. For all of Esme’s gentle love, she had persevered through a domino effect of tragedies during her human life. Celeste blanched, both from the bite of the memory and the smack of her reality. She’d gone too far somehow, she was sure of it.

Mostly, though, everyone appeared taken aback. Celeste wasn’t one to voice her opinion on the vampire world often and so the sudden decision caused a sort of delayed response from her immortal family. Carlisle, as expected, spoke first.

“Celeste,” he said, voice that of a doctor speaking to an anxious patient, “We would never kill an innocent. You understand, though, that a vampire’s thirst is not something that should be ignored. In this case especially, considering we now face _la tua cantante_. Miss Swan is Edward’s blood singer and therefore, it will be much more difficult for him to control himself.”

“I’m not asking for it to be ignored, but Edward,” she turned to her unnervingly still brother, whose brooding frown had not moved an inch, “I really think you can manage this, honestly. I’m not trying to be selfish – you can read my thoughts for heaven’s sake if you don’t believe me. I don’t know the future and I don’t know how this will all end, but I _do know_ that you are so much more than whatever thoughts you had in that Biology class today.” Edward’s frown lifted as he watched his sister with muted disbelief. She expected him to respond so when he didn’t, she added:

“You can do this because you can do anything. So stay, please, and face your mortality.”

For that, he gave her one nod of his head and the ghost of a smirk.

* * *

Although Celeste’s words had helped steer the Bella conversation in a more positive direction, Rosalie and Jasper remained skeptical of their role on the sidelines. Both vampires were creatures of action and so the “wait and see” mentality made their protective instincts flare. However, it was eventually decided that no permanent measures would be taken for the time being. To Celeste’s surprise, Edward actually heeded her advice…kind of.

He wanted to take a couple of days away from school before facing Bella again and while Celeste was still mildly annoyed with him, this choice was at least better than fleeing to Alaska or killing a fellow classmate.

At around ten that night, Celeste sat on the couch with Emmett, Rose, and Esme while mindlessly watching a cooking show. Alice and Jasper were off doing their own thing, Carlisle was in his study, and from the loud blaring of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata coming from upstairs…Edward was likely sulking. _He sure is an angsty old man._

“Do you think he’s up there staring at the ceiling like he’s in one of those cringey teen love movies?” Celeste leaned over and whispered to Emmett. He laughed louder than she had been expecting, so she jolted a bit in spite of herself.

“I didn’t know you could angrily listen to classical music, but he’s doing it.”

The two laughed to themselves, Celeste carefully gauging Rose from the corner of her eye. Her fierce sister had the origins of a grin pulling at her lips. _Careful now, we can’t make any sudden moves, or we’ll startle her._

“Awe Rosie, is that a smile I see?” _God damn it, Emmett._

Rose’s face immediately morphed into a scowl, “I am _not_ smiling, Emmett.”

“I think you are,” he fired back in an obnoxious sing-song voice. Rose sent him a glare that could melt iron.

“I am _not_.”

It only took one glance at her sister’s face for Celeste to bolt off her spot on the couch.

“I’m going to bed now. Goodnight!” she threw out over her shoulder before going up the steps as swiftly as her human legs could carry her.

She barely heard her mother bid her goodnight when Rose chucked the TV remote at Emmett’s head and shattered it into a thousand plastic pieces.

* * *

The school day blurred by quickly without Edward there to stir up drama with the new human. Classes were about as entertaining as any other average day. Mr. Mason assigned them two Emily Dickinson poems to read for their new poetry unit. They had just turned in their rough drafts detailing Shakespeare’s _King Lear_ that morning. She and Jamie had discussed the procrastination strategies they had employed during the creation of their papers – Jamie had reached level 25 on Call of Duty since buying the game the previous weekend and Celeste had alternated between staring blankly at a wall and browsing the internet at random. Each day that they talked proved that they were destined to be best friends – they’d even begun sending each other lame text messages throughout the day.

When lunch rolled around, Jamie went to his friends and Celeste went to hers. She carried on some surface-y small talk with Bella and Angela but nothing beyond the persistent rumblings from Bella’s arrival offered much to the conversation. Ironically enough, it wasn’t until after gym had finished that Celeste’s heart rate spiked.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Bella wondered from the side. _Déjà vu, right?_

“Yeah, shoot.”

“Is your brother okay?” _Shit. Actual. Shit._

“Which one?”

“Edward.”

“Oh, he’s home sick if that’s what you’re asking,” Celeste shrugged, doing her best to respond with nonchalance like she’d done a hundred times before in similar situations.

“Oh,” Bella paused, “What does he have?” _Think quick here, Sloost._

“The stomach flu, I think. He started feeling bad on Monday. He should be back by Friday, though.”

“That’s good, then. I just wondered.” Bella definitely wanted to ask more, but she was suddenly restrained.

 _Fuck it._ “Any particular reason why?” Bella cringed at Celeste’s question.

“Uh, well. He acted sort of weird on Monday in Biology and then he wasn’t here today so, I don’t know, I just thought I would ask,” the shorter girl tucked some of her brown hair behind her ears and ducked her head so she was looking at the floor.

“He threw up _right after_ that class so that would explain it probably,” Celeste acted the part flawlessly but in the back of her mind, she laughed. _How ridiculous to pretend vampires could get sick_.

“Oh, yeah, that would definitely explain it then.” Bella nodded as she spoke.

“Yeah.”

“Well, see you tomorrow.”

“Yep. See you!”

* * *

Celeste replayed the scene in her head for Edward when she got home. His jaw twitched once out of annoyance and he pinched the bridge of his nose – something he did commonly when frustrated. They were sitting on the stairs with Celeste sitting one step below him so that she looked up at him.

“This all would be so much easier if I could read her mind,” he said softly. Celeste winced at the stricken look on his face, letting herself sympathize with her brother and placing a light hand on his shoulder.

“It would be, sure,” she replied, taking on the same soft tone that he had used previously, “But people don’t have gifts like that in the human world, at least not that I know of. Maybe you can look at this…hard situation…as a good thing.” He raised his head to her, eyes pained.

“How could I possibly do that?” _You’re impossible, Ed_.

“This could be your chance to be human – have a human experience. You could have a conversation where you would actually be _surprised_ by what the other person said. It might be, I don’t know, exciting?” She watched as his features softened and his mind worked through her suggestions.

“That would be…extraordinarily dangerous, Celeste.” Celeste let out a groan that was both internal and external. Then, she sighed.

“Yes. It would be. I’m not discrediting that. However, you’ll never know unless you take a shot.” Edward stared at her blankly. She straightened herself up so she could look down at him. His reddish hair was messier than usual but his eyes were bright gold. He’d been hunting like a madman to distract himself.

“Ya know,” she spoke carefully, “I love you but the reason you’re so miserable all of the time is because you force yourself to be.” Edward’s expression changed from blank to shocked like a bomb had gone off in his face. Celeste sent him one last firm glance before setting off for her bedroom.

Alice whizzed into her room about an hour later. Without so much as a greeting, she breezed into Celeste’s closet and began sifting through various articles of clothing. After spending her entire life in a family of inhumanly fast, immortal beings she should not have been surprised by the rate at which Alice threw her clothes out to her – yet, she was.

“A-Alice!” Celeste exclaimed as a denim jacket slapped her in the shoulder, “What are you doing?” Alice hummed to herself before answering.

“Deciding on your outfit for tomorrow, silly,” she replied like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. Alice did like to choose the family’s attire, but Celeste had asked for some independence in the fashion arena as of late. Therefore, her puzzlement at the tiny tornado currently rampaging through her footwear was most definitely warranted.

“Didn’t you agree on letting _me_ choose my outfits from now on?”

“I believe you asked if you could control your closet from _time to time_ , if I remember correctly.”

“No,” Celeste replied with vehemence, “I’m pretty sure I specified _most of the time_.”

Alice’s eyes met hers for the first time since entering the room, though ethereal gold, they emitted a similar quality that reminded Celeste of a sad puppy.

“What about five days a week?” Alice asked, still gazing at her with large, sad eyes. Celeste sighed. _I’m never going to win this anyway_.

“I’ll settle on four days.”

Alice squealed, “Deal!” She threw Celeste into a crushing hug before returning to the sizeable wardrobe in Celeste’s closet.

“This, this, and…this,” she pulled a light gray blouse, black fitted pants, and charcoal gray knee-high boots to go with the dark denim jacket.

Celeste glanced at the items, smiling broadly, “This is actually perfect, Al. Thank you.”

“I know,” Alice shrugged and then grabbed her sister’s hand. “Come on, it’s time to eat!”

Dinner that night consisted of salmon, broccoli, and roasted red skin potatoes. Celeste ate the food happily while listening to her siblings’ voices that were sprinkled throughout the house. Alice sat perched on the counter next to Celeste’s plate with Jasper leaning against the end of the island counter. She flitted from one topic to another, with Celeste filling any silence with nods and hums. Jasper watched his wife talk contentedly, brushing his hand against her cheek or neck as she babbled on endlessly. Celeste had been so used to her voice at her side that she immediately noticed when the chatter stopped.

“Uh, Al, you okay?” Her sister’s eyes had grown distant, lost to reality. _Oh no_.

When Alice’s breathing hitched, Celeste felt her heart speed. _Edward!_

Instantly, the other five Cullen’s found their way into the kitchen with Edward at the front. His eyebrows knitted together as her scoured Alice’s mind.

“It seems we’ll be having a visitor,” Edward explained. Alice came out of the vision then, blinking rapidly.

“Garrett will be here in five days’ time,” she said, obviously still working through what she had seen.

Garrett was Carlisle’s friend who had been turned during the American Revolution sometime in the 1780’s. He had a traditional vampire diet and though Celeste had met him once when she had been very young, she did not remember much about the nomad. From what she had learned from Carlisle over the years, Garrett preferred to travel alone and belonged to no coven. Celeste could not imagine what he could possibly want if he were coming to Forks.

“Do you have any idea what his business is?” Carlisle asked, expressing a mutual perplexity. Alice shook her spiky head.

“No, but he will be here sometime Monday.” Everyone appeared confused but as Alice did not think that Garrett had any ulterior motives, they decided the visit did not pose much of a threat. Celeste found herself a little bit on edge, though, because she was unused to vampires who did not share her family’s ideals. She jumped when Jasper laid a hand on her shoulder.

“It will be fine,” he said in a low voice as a wave of calm fell over her wild heart.

* * *

Edward returned to school on Friday. Celeste, along with her siblings, made sure to keep an eye on both him and Bella as the school day progressed. The day passed on normally – though they all held their breath during Bella and Edward’s shared Biology class. When gym rolled around, no conversation about Edward took place, much to Celeste’s delight. No news was good news.

Jamie, however, was having a bit of an off day.

He came to school tired and although perpetual exhaustion was customary among teenagers, his lack of energy was incredibly abnormal.

“Hey loser,” Celeste teased affectionately as she greeted him at their lockers at the end of the day.

“Hey,” he shrugged after several seconds.

“I know you said you were fine earlier but…are you sure?”

Jamie groaned before rubbing his hands over his face, “Yeah.” The answer came out muffled because of the hands covering his mouth.

“Oh wow, I totally believe you.” Celeste rolled her eyes and her voice drowned in sarcasm.

“I’m really not in the mood today.”

Celeste thought a moment, “Well, you could tell me the problem and maybe I could help.” Jamie groaned again and slammed his locker door shut. He leaned all his weight against the cold, hand-me-down metal and rolled his head to meet Celeste’s stare.

A beat passed and then:

“I haven’t been sleeping.” Celeste nodded.

“Jack keeps playing his music so loud at night that I can’t even close my eyes. I asked him to stop being such a total dickhead and he said I deserved it for making fun of him in front of you.”

 _What the hell?_ “So he’s punishing you for…standing up to him?” Jamie nodded.

“That’s not even all of it. This morning, I woke up and he’d stolen all of my underwear, so I’ve been free-balling it all day.” Celeste had to hold back from laughing. Her expression went serious.

“Jamie, that’s awful! Have you said anything to your parents?” Celeste cringed at how naïve she sounded even to her own ears.

“You’re kidding, right?” Jamie’s blue eyes were full of sarcastic disbelief.

“Yeah, disregard that. What are you going to do?” Celeste was now leaning against her own longer and facing him.

“I don’t know. Ignore him, I guess?” An idea bloomed in Celeste’s mind and a wicked smile broke out onto her face. Though not one for retaliation or pranks, she’d witnessed Emmett in action enough to understand the strategy.

“What?” Jamie asked, “Why are you grinning at my pain?” Some of his usual easy-going nature started to come back, for which Celeste was grateful.

“We’re going to get your brother back, and I know just the way to do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who am I kidding? I'll just post another.


	3. The Dickinson Dash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A revenge plot ensues. Bella Swan gets more curious.

“Orange juice, water, or sprite?”

Celeste Cullen pondered these choices thoughtfully on a Sunday afternoon at the Rivers’ household. She and Jamie were plotting an ingenious prank on his “holier than thou” twin brother, Jack. Their location options were limited due to Jack’s schedule and Celeste’s family’s inevitable lust for human life juice. Not that they couldn’t control themselves, but Celeste preferred not to make them uncomfortable.

Jamie had left her a conspiratorially whispered voicemail early that morning asking if she would be free that afternoon and obviously, her answer had been the affirmative. There they sat, a boy with a wicked sense of humor and a girl who, for the first time, felt like she could be unabashedly herself – no secrets to keep, no catastrophes to contain – just two teenagers being teenagers. Celeste finally made her decision, settling on a tall glass of smooth citrus. Jamie replicated her choice before joining her on an adjacent stool at his kitchen counter.

“So, my budding evil mastermind, what clever goodness do you have in store for me today?” Jamie asked with his expressive eyebrows. Celeste noticed that when Jamie was trying to be exceptionally hilarious, his eyebrows twitched spasmodically. The twitching – in her opinion – had the potential to be funnier than his humor.

“Well,” Celeste began, “I was thinking…what’s your brother’s first class?” Jamie looked up at the ceiling briefly, appearing to find his answer there.

“History.”

“Perfect.”

Over the next few hours, the two diabolical teens strategized and planned their expert prank down to the minute. Both parties would have to hone their acting skills to pull it off, but they had concluded that Jack would fall for even the most butchered ruse. Eventually, their scheming came to an end when Jamie’s stomach created an all-encompassing gurgle. He rubbed the palms of his hands over his eyes and leaned back in his seat to fix Celeste with a look.

“Do you wanna order pizza?” Celeste thought about her mom at home who more than likely would be disappointed if she were to stay at Jamie’s for dinner. She felt guilty, but inevitably texted Edward to let him know that she would be later than she had anticipated. She was hungry, but she was also enjoying herself – enjoyed feeling normal.

They ordered a large pepperoni pan crusted pizza and practically screeched out of excitement when the delivery guy rang the doorbell. Jamie paraded the pizza box around his living room while Celeste could weirdly feel the saliva pooling in her mouth. When he finally set the box on his counter, she eagerly reached for the box and, in her brazen enthusiasm, somehow gave herself a small papercut. Tiny drops of red, opaque liquid fell from her index finger and to her embarrassed horror she exclaimed:

“Oh-oh my God! I am _so_ sorry, Jamie! I’ll go take care of this. I’ll – ,” she stopped, eyes wide and locked in a fearful stupor. Jamie cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Dude, it’s fine. Just go to the bathroom and get a band aid from under the sink.” Her mouth fell open – half from the shock of his nonchalance and half ashamed of her own idiocy in the moment.

“R-Right. I’ll be back.” Celeste washed up in the bathroom, taking deep breaths as she tried to reign in her racing mind. _I cannot believe I freaked out like that_ , she thought. _I’m such a mess, I seriously just apologized for getting a_ papercut. _He’s never going to invite me over again._

Once she gathered herself up, she went back out to the kitchen where Jamie was currently finishing his fourth slice of pizza. She dropped into a stool next to him, lazily grabbing for a slice of cheesy pie to promote an act of calmness.

“You good?”

Celeste nodded, “Yeah, sorry about that. I was worried about getting blood on your furniture.”

Jamie shrugged, “It’s all good. I cleaned it up, no worries.”

When Celeste arrived home that night, she’d all but forgotten about how she had freaked out at Jamie’s house. Her family members were nowhere to be seen as she entered the living room and so she almost jumped into one of Esme’s wall paintings when she heard Edward behind her.

“What were you up to?” he asked quietly, mild interest displayed on his otherwise neutral features.

Celeste shrugged, “Just…working on a project with Jamie.”

“A project?” he smirked. _Uh oh._

“Yes,” Celeste forced a smile, “A project.” Her brother furrowed his brow teasingly. Celeste started reciting the English alphabet in her head and he chortled in response. Unlike her much older siblings, Celeste was not fluent in twenty different languages so when she didn’t want her brother to read her thoughts, she had to settle for a more remedial approach.

As the night wound down, Celeste could feel her hands clamming up and throat going dry. Tomorrow would be an adventure – one way or another.

* * *

Celeste swung in to the Rivers’ driveway at 6:25 A.M. the next morning. She’d had to make up a story about asking one of her teachers a question before school in order to drive solo for the day. It was unlikely her family bought it – especially when there happened to be a mind reader present – but Celeste sang obnoxiously in her head as she told her mom she would be taking her midnight blue Mini Cooper to school instead of carpooling. Esme had nodded gently, telling her to do whatever she needed.

Jamie rushed out hurriedly, grasping his half open, plaid book bag in one hand, carrying his coat in the other, and firmly holding a sesame bagel between his teeth. When he sat down in her passenger seat, a hurricane of papers exploded onto the floor. He groaned and then shrugged like he had been expecting such an occurrence.

“You good?” Celeste asked, mimicking his question from the previous night.

“Shut up,” he replied with doting sarcasm. She shrugged and failed to suppress a laugh at his expense.

“You are a disaster,” she put the car into reverse, “but in the very best way.”

Jamie threw what was left of his bagel at her.

* * *

They pulled up to the school only seven minutes later as Jamie lived much closer than her family did. Except for the staff cars, they were the first ones to arrive for the day. The two of them made quick work of gathering all their necessary supplies and then speed-walked into the building ahead.

“Do you have the note?” Jamie asked.

“Yeah,” she patted her back pocket. The note was the most essential part of their plan – their catalyst, so to speak.

“Take this,” Celeste said, fishing out a small drawstring backpack from her bag. It happened to be hideously neon green – a souvenir from a summer camp Carlisle and Esme had insisted upon because they wanted her to be a “normal kid”. The camp had lasted for two weeks and while she thrived the first week, she grew incredibly homesick during the second. They never forced her to go again.

“All this goes in the locker, right?” Jamie asked.

“Correct,” Celeste agreed, “Do you think you’re going to be able to snag the duffle bag?”

Jamie nodded with partial confidence, “I think so. Jack’s pretty easy to fool, but we’ll see.”

Their plan was supposed to work like this:

Celeste was going to place a handwritten note in Jack’s locker. The note asked Jack to meet Celeste at her locker at the end of the day. At some point, Jamie was going to sneak into the gym locker room while Jack showered at the end of the day and steal his clothes – however, he was going to leave Celeste’s drawstring bag behind. The stuff in the drawstring bag was a bit more of a _surprise_ for Jack.

The rest, well, they would have to wait and see.

Celeste and Jamie walked briskly to his brother’s locker where Celeste shoved the folded note through the vent. They could hear other students starting to enter the building and so they immediately darted back to their lockers to hide their pranking accessories. A sinking feeling that she could only identify as guilt licked at her insides.

“Jamie?” he turned, “Do you think this is too, I don’t know, mean?”

“Cel,” he began, shortening her name for the very first time, “I haven’t worn underwear in _days_. This is going to be perfect.” The feeling abated slightly.

“Okay, if you say so.”

What they hadn’t planned for that morning, was Bella Swan’s almost untimely death.

* * *

Any thoughts Celeste had of backing out of their plan went out of her head as soon as she heard about what Edward had done. Her brother had saved Bella Swan from a speeding van in front of almost the entire student body. She needed to shift the attention away from her inhuman family members and she needed to do it now.

After lunch and also after avoiding her brother’s mental prodding, Celeste sauntered up to Jamie with determination. She brushed his shoulder just enough to get within earshot without looking terribly suspicious.

“You ready?” she whispered, distraught by how gleeful she was beginning to feel and sound.

Jamie shot her a wicked grin, “Absolutely.”

Celeste went through the motions during gym class, growing jumpier and more fidgety as the glowing red clock numbers switched over. When the class ended, she thumbed out a text to Jamie and dressed fast, hoping her timing was correct. She ducked past small crowds of people, squinting at how unbearably shiny the linoleum floors had become. After waiting at her locker for a grand total of two minutes and forty-seven seconds, Jamie came sprinting down the hall way, the skin at his hairline growing red from physical exertion and anxiety. She gripped at his arm tightly to steady him.

“How did it go?” she asked, voice a mix of excitement and fear. He held up one finger so that he could catch his breath.

“It was close, but I did it,” he wheezed out, patting his full backpack with one hand. Celeste nodded her understanding. The hallway had begun to fill up with people trying to sort out their things for the end of the school day. She and Jamie made brief small talk, both looking around wildly every few seconds to check for any signs of Jack. When the doors at the end of the hallway opened up with a _thunk_ , Jamie and Celeste turned to see a very wet and very angry Jack standing at the end of the hallway clad in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

Drops of water flew from his hair as he flicked his head back and forth, searching for Celeste in the now-gathering crowd. Celeste and Jamie were trying to compose their faces when he spotted them, marching angrily toward their spot at their lockers. Jack was intersected, though, as one of Jamie’s friends – the hilarious, redheaded Sadie Shrader – pulled off his towel to reveal plaid boxer shorts. In his haste to identify the culprit, Jack turned fully in a circle – showing off the ironed-on letters “Hot Stuff” presiding over his left and right butt cheeks. The hallway rippled with the sort of laughter that only teenage assholes could provide.

Sadie ran over to Celeste and Jamie with Emma Minsk close behind her. Emma was another of Jamie’s friends that Celeste had met before – they’d bonded over their mutual love of reading.

“Not bad, Rivers,” Sadie smirked, handing him his brother’s towel. Jack was currently going beet red and had lost his focus on Celeste and Jamie.

“This was Celeste’s idea, actually,” Jamie motioned to her with his hand. Celeste blushed a little, feeling bad about both the prank and the fact that she had enjoyed pulling it off. Sadie swiveled to her with a grandiose turn.

“Damn, Cullen, I like your brain.” Celeste opened her mouth to acknowledge Sadie’s comment, but Jack had taken notice of the four of them again and was beginning to surge forward.

“Run,” Jamie whispered, violently flailing himself down the hallway. Celeste, Sadie, and Emma followed him, catching sight of the entertained and confused faces of their peers. Sadie laughed gleefully as they raced over the smooth floors while Emma and Celeste kept their attention on the slaps of Jack’s bare feet further behind them. People stepped out of their way as they sprinted into the parking lot. Celeste found the eyes of her siblings then, their expressions a mix between amused and concerned.

 _I had to do something_ , she thought at Edward, who had eventually returned from the hospital after his questionably heroic actions that morning. He winced but then nodded and Celeste knew in that moment that he was grateful despite being perhaps mildly disappointed with her behavior. She felt for her car keys, pressing the unlock button twenty consecutive times. Jamie reached the car first, the rest of them joining him mere seconds later.

“ _You’re so dead, Jamie_!” Jack yelled from a distance and Celeste’s heart rate spiked. She ignored her panic enough to start her car, put it in gear, and drive away. Moments after their escape, the four teens burst into uproarious giggles that lasted until they reached their next destination.

* * *

Celeste pulled into her driveway thirty minutes later after dropping off her passengers and making plans to hang out at Emma’s house that Friday night. Though she knew that her joke was more than a little cruel, she couldn’t get rid of the giddy smile on her face. Her emotional high continued as she walked into the house and only began to ebb away when she was met with several vampires with crossed arms and unreadable stares. Her father had come home early, too. _Damn_ , _I am screwed_.

“Hey,” she greeted apprehensively, shrugging off her coat and bag onto their hangers in the foyer. No one moved a muscle or twitched an inch and so Celeste found herself shakily tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. When the silence continued to fall over the family scene, she found herself almost mentally laughing at the theatrics of the age-old immortals she shared her life with.

“Did you have a good day, Celeste?” her father asked, stepping forward into a gray area between the bristling familial fray and his unusually mischievous daughter. Celeste twisted the ring around her left index finger, feeling it grow slippery as she exuded sweat.

“Y-Yeah,” she answered, “It was good.” _They already know everything that happened_. _Can’t we just get on with it_?

Her father nodded, a brief quirk of his lip alerting Celeste that he did indeed know everything and he was not as entirely cross with her as she assumed he may be.

“So,” Edward started, stepping forward, “Today’s events…that was the _project_ you were working on this weekend?” Celeste bit her lip and sighed into her answer.

“Yes, it was. Jamie’s my friend and his brother is a big asshole who won’t leave him alone…so I sort of cooked up this whole plot to get him back. I almost backed out but then you screwed up this morning – I guess we could call it that anyway – and so I felt like I had to do _something_ to shift everyone’s attention…and, yeah. Here we are now.”

Celeste had been talking animatedly with her hands to push the words out as she thought them so when she stopped speaking, her arms clapped down loudly at her thighs. Her brother hardened his gaze at her but did not say anything else. Her father sighed, though, and proceeded on thoughtfully.

“Yes. Edward’s actions have been discussed at length and while I do appreciate your input my dear…I think we should perhaps talk about the choices you have made.” His voice, as always, resonated with a gentle timber that allowed just a bit of parental bestowed guilt to start seeping into her gut.

“If I get in trouble, I will take one hundred percent responsibility for today and I don’t think I want to do it again. The thrill of it was fun, sure, but I do feel pretty bad – regardless of how much he deserved it.” Her father smiled lightly at her, his eyes searching for a tell-tale sign of when exactly his little girl had become such a level-headed young woman. As he did this, the tone of the room lightened immensely and the rest of the Cullen’s visibly relaxed.

There was a beat of unsure silence before Emmett remarked, “Sloost, you are a total badass!” and then he ran to her at half-speed and twirled her around like she was the [second] best girl on earth.

* * *

The family spoke at length about what to do with the human girl witnessing Edward’s rather impossible abilities during the almost-accident. Celeste had excused herself after some time, wanting to get some homework done before she lost all motivation.

Around eight, Celeste heard the _whoosh_ of fast bodies moving in and out of the back door. Low voices filtered up to her bedroom and she internally debated whether to make an appearance downstairs for a minute or two. Eventually, she decided to greet the nomad that had chosen to descend upon her family’s home for the time being.

She noticed the leather jacket, fingerless gloves, and overall disgruntled rocker look before she heard his voice. Her father and brothers were engaged in an apparently exciting conversation with Garrett, though Celeste was far enough away that she hadn’t quite tuned in yet. Alice looked on with a smile and Rose put on her most welcoming face while Esme surmised what all she could do for the guest in her home. Celeste shook her head at her constantly nurturing mother and chose that moment to walk fully into the room. Every head swiveled to acknowledge her entry – the scene reminded her of walking into a full classroom during a lecture where every eye falls to the disruption.

Her eyes scanned over the golden eyes of each family member before landing on an unfamiliar pair of bright, ruby red eyes. Garrett had a handsome but scruffy face – Celeste found herself taken aback more by the fact that she had never seen a vampire with facial hair before rather than the fact that said vampire lived off humans. His dark brown hair reached his shoulders and was shaggy and windblown. He smirked at her, sizing her up and Celeste did her best to avoid that barely concealed predatory glint in his eye. When the glint faded, however, she watched him grow confused and turn to raise his brow at Carlisle.

“You weren’t kidding,” he commented with astonishment ringing clear in his tone. Carlisle nodded once, crossing his arms over his chest in a thoughtful manner.

“She really is an anomaly to us all.” Her father gazed at her affectionately, though Celeste detected some minor pride from the way that he held himself just the smallest bit firmer.

“Yeah…there’s really nothing…” Garrett muttered to himself, still obviously thrown.

“Yes, well,” Celeste cleared her throat, “now that we’re done talking about me while I’m right here in the room…Hi, I’m Celeste.” Garrett quirked up one side of his mouth.

“Garrett,” he nodded once. She nodded back, though was rather unimpressed with him upon first glance – despite him being admittedly attractive.

She had met nomads before – all were shocked at a human girl living with a coven of vampires. The occasional stray vampire would find her family once in a while, though she had spent more time with Eleazar, Carmen, Tanya, Kate, and Irina than she had with any other blood-thirsty immortal. When they lived in Alaska, she spent an excessive amount of time around the Denali coven. Tanya taught her how to French braid her own hair without using a mirror, Kate taught her self-defense, and Irina taught her the importance of forgiveness – though not through actions of her own.

Celeste brushed off this newcomer easily, having grown used to the casual drop-ins. He might stay for a night or a few days – a week maybe – but they always left. No red eyed ones could be converted, of that she was sure. Not one of them could understand such suppression of instinct or painful abstinence. Celeste had no idea if this one had come to be enlightened or if his reasons were beyond her entirely. She didn’t mean to be cynical – clearly, human blood could be avoided if one had the willpower – but she had watched the interested fail time and time again. Her interest in supernatural redemption had become fleeting.

“Nice to meet you,” Celeste walked into the kitchen, moving away from the reunion taking place in the great room. She was neither brash nor welcoming, just neutral – the voice of someone who had been through this same interaction many, many times before.

She puttered around through the fridge, scowling a bit at the celery and ketchup. _There’s_ nothing _in here_ , she groaned to herself. Edward’s hidden chuckle came from the other room. She was aware that a few pairs of eyes were on her and it made her incredibly uncomfortable – no amount of time in a household of vampires would ever make the dull feeling of being prey go away completely. Closing the fridge door, she moved over to the pantry, standing in the colossal doorway for a few immovable moments before picking up a container of almonds and munching away out of mindless boredom.

Celeste mostly kept to her own thoughts while she sat at the counter, half turned to feign interest in the conversation taking place a room over. However, her ears did begin to perk up when:

“They’re moving in closer. The redhead’s a psycho and her boyfriend’s a sociopath if I’ve ever seen one. The only sane one was the Frenchie. Just a warning, Carlisle, they move fast. I followed them for several hundred miles and then changed course when I saw where they were headed.” _Are there…more vampires coming_? She met Edward’s eyes. He looked up and then down to simulate a nod and Celeste mirrored the motion to prove she’d understood. It was times like these that made her wonder about what her home life must look like to an outsider. Would the cold, porcelain skin and weird gold eyes be the first clue? Or, would the tiny clairvoyant and hovering mind reader be the dead giveaway?

She sighed just as the simultaneous _crack_ of the almond between her teeth became the only sound in the entire house. Without so much as a glance up, she went up to her room to avoid every inhuman being and thought that could possibly reach her.

* * *

In the morning, the guilt of the day before started to manifest itself as a pounding headache. Not usually prone to head pain, Celeste went through the motions of her morning routine. For the second day in a row, she was going to drive to school on her own because she had promised Jamie she would give him a ride until his brother cooled down.

Garrett stood idling in the kitchen when Celeste made her way downstairs. No one else was around so she took her time filling her lunch bag with baby cut carrots and celery coated with peanut butter.

“What’s it feel like being the only thing with a beating heart in a house full of creatures that could take you out whenever they please?” He leaned casually against the counter, his tone full of gloating sarcasm without a hint of maliciousness. Celeste appreciated his dark humor – _everyone in this house can be so sensitive_.

“Sounds like a normal morning to me,” she answered without looking up. Garrett snorted.

“Surprised that I’m not running for the hills?”

“More surprised that you seem to be disinterested in almost everything.”

“I’m not,” Celeste met his satirical gaze, “Just used to it.”

“So,” she tried her hand at small talk, “you fought in the revolution?” An amused smirk crossed his face.

“The British people haven’t changed much – still smug bastards.” Celeste laughed lightly.

“The Beatles had great music, though.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, “and I was beginning to like you.”

“Wait five minutes,” she shoved her things in her bag and grabbed her car keys, “the feeling will pass.”

* * *

Principal Green called Celeste, Jamie, Emma, and Sadie into his office five minutes into first period. Alice had texted to warn her, though the warning came a bit too late to be helpful. As they entered the office, Jack walked out with an excellent expression of arrogant smugness wafting around him.

“We’re fucked,” Jamie had said.

“Very fucked,” Sadie agreed.

“Can you stop saying fucked? We’re at the principal’s office for fuck’s sake!” Emma exclaimed.

“Shh, guys. The door!” Celeste whisper-yelled.

“Oh, Miss Cullen,” Principal Green greeted, “Come in – Mr. Rivers, Miss Shrader, and Miss Minsk – you wait out there.” Celeste looked back at her three new friends with wide, panicked eyes and their faces reciprocated her own. The door shut then, and Celeste’s heartrate sped up erratically. The principal took a seat at his desk and gestured for Celeste to take the seat across from him. She couldn’t find the courage to meet his eyes at first, so she settled for staring at the brass name plate on his grainy, faux wood desk.

“How can I help you, Mr. Green?” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I hate to have to do this – you’re an excellent student, never had a single problem with you before. But, uh…Jack Rivers was just in here and he told me that you, his brother, Sadie Shrader, and Emma Minsk all played a joke to…mock his good character.” _Good character_? _Seriously_? Celeste said nothing in response.

Mr. Green sighed again.

“Were you apart of a prank against Jack Rivers?”

She nodded before she answered, “Yes.”

“Can you tell me your version of events?” So, Celeste did.

She relayed how Jamie had been exasperated by his brother, how she had come up with the whole plot. She took responsibility for everything and Mr. Green actually seemed pleased with her honesty. At the end, though, he asked her to wait out in the hallway until he had spoken with the other conspirators.

The next thirty minutes lasted a lifetime while each member of their little party told their version of events. Eventually, Mr. Green called them all in at the same time.

He leaned against the front of his desk, his arms clasped over one another – the kind of stance that is typical in any high school movie. He concluded that they all participated in some way. Jamie and Celeste were given the highest sentence – two weeks of after school detention – and Sadie and Emma were given a week and two days respectively. Celeste hesitated when they were leaving, choosing to stand in Mr. Green’s doorway.

“Thank you,” she said. He smiled kindly.

“Miss Cullen, I am a principal first but I am also a human being. Your loyalty to your friends has not gone unnoticed. They are lucky to have you.”

“I am very lucky to have them, Mr. Green.”

* * *

She gave her family the low-down on her delinquency status when she sat down at their table. They were concerned, judging by the looks on their faces.

“What’s the damage, then?” Edward asked, eyes never leaving Bella Swan several tables over. Celeste allowed her brother to look inside her head, replaying the events for him as she slid into a seat between Rose and Jasper. Edward’s eyebrows rose fractionally when he reached the parting words she had with the school principal.

“Seems like he’s on your side.” Celeste went into the story for the rest of her siblings, doing her best to catch them up to speed.

Jasper, uncharacteristically, leaned back in his chair when she had finished.

“Sounds like you put out your siren call.” Celeste rolled her eyes and annoyingly ruffled her brother’s honey blonde hair. Jasper was of the opinion that there was not a soul on earth that she couldn’t win over in some way.

“Two weeks detention, though. He has to be fair, we did harass another student. Though, he kind of harassed us first.”

“It was pretty funny, Cellie,” Alice chimed in, letting out a twinkling giggle that made Jasper’s eyes go starry.

“I’m glad you enjoy my conniving mind.”

At the end of the day, Celeste took Jamie home. They conversed entirely in groans as their two weeks of detention were to commence the following day. When she reached her house, her mom was right there to take her in her arms and offer her a sympathetic smile. She was told never to pull something like that again, though more out of keeping appearances than necessity.

Jamie texted her around five to let her know that his parents weren’t all that upset with him – they were weirdly traditional and merely agreed that “boys will be boys” which made Celeste’s skin crawl despite the saying working out in her favor for once. At the very least, things had been quiet that day with no Jack to bother her and she had been so lost in thought that she had barely said more than two words to Bella in gym.

Garrett was still at the Cullen residence, too. Mostly, he spent time with Carlisle when he was around or was with Emmett or Jasper – Edward pretty much kept to himself as of late. 

After a nice dinner of grilled chicken and asparagus, Alice had a vision of the new nomadic triad making their way into Forks. The Cullen’s agreed to be on guard for the newcomers but did not feel they had enough evidence to label their arrival a threat.

That night, Rose came into Celeste’s room after she had finished taking a shower so hot that her skin should have melted off. Rose picked up her hairbrush, running the bristles through her long, wet hair that had now assumed the color of drowned wheat.

Celeste leaned back into the long, even brushwork, marveling at how tenderly Rose took care of those she loved and how large a disparity remained between the public face of Rosalie and the private one.

“I’m proud of you,” Rose whispered, humming as she worked out the wet tangles at the ends of Celeste’s hair.

“Why?” she asked, turning around as Rose was mid-brush. Rosalie chucked softly at her little sister.

“You can take care of yourself, little human, whether you realize it or not. You don’t wait for anyone else to save you. You’re so very different than I was at your age and for that, I am so proud.” Celeste pulled her sister in close, hugging her neck and getting the front of Rose’s shirt just the slightest bit damp.

“I learned from the best, Rosie. Don’t forget that.”

* * *

The next day at school caught Celeste completely off guard. Usually, the quiet, calm Bella Swan kept their conversations mundane enough that she had no reason to worry. Today, however, Bella was determined to entwine herself into Celeste’s destiny – though neither of them knew it quite yet.

Celeste had been describing to her new friend the woes of yesterday, grumbling every so often about how boring the next two weeks of her life were going to be. Bella laughed at the right times, though the humor never did reach her eyes. Celeste ignored this though, blaming her near death experience for the lack of interesting conversation. But then, she asked the question that Celeste had completely forgot to dread:

“Can I ask you a question about your brother?”

It seemed as if that Bella bomb that she had been expecting since day one was finally going to go off – just when she had decided that the new girl was completely harmless.


	4. ABBA Binds Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble on the school and home front leaves Celeste Cullen in quite the conundrum.

Detention ended up being the perfect way to keep homework from becoming a take home endeavor. Celeste closed her English textbook, grumbling at how insignificant reading poetry seemed. They had read Emily Dickinson’s poem “Because I could not stop for Death - ” in class that day and were told to write a two-page reflection based on the work. Celeste, admittedly, found she liked Dickinson but had no idea how to authentically relate the poem to her life. There were only two things playing in her mind – one, that she lived in a family of immortals so she definitely knew some people that would never die and two, the conversation she had had with Bella Swan two days before.

Celeste had gaped at her at first but recovered quickly. Bella shifted awkwardly, taking a moment to scuff her sneaker on the ground before meeting Celeste’s eyes with a half-frightened half-determined look. Celeste, unsure how else to respond, laughed.

“Which one?”

“Edward.” Bella’s voice had taken on an assertive edge which did make Celeste’s eyes widen larger than she would have liked. _I’m supposed to be playing it cool_.

“Oh yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“Is he…” _A vampire? Yes_. Celeste thought to herself as Bella struggled with her question.

“On steroids?” The two girls stared at each other with equally perplexed expressions. Celeste was not sure that Bella had meant to ask that question. Celeste decided to laugh it off, feeling bad because the poor girl had definitely seen her brother do some impossible things. She felt the bitter taste of dishonestly pool in her mouth but gritted her teeth against it.

“No, not that I know of. Why do you ask?” _God, this sucks_.

“It’s just…yesterday…he saved me from getting killed in an accident and I know for a fact that I saw him do something impossible. It sounds crazy, I know. But I…I had to ask you. It’s been bugging me for the last two days.” There was an earnestness in Bella’s eyes. Celeste had been queued up to lie smoothly, just as she had always done if someone asked her about her family. She didn’t want to lie, though. _I can’t tell her but maybe…_

“You’re not crazy. I can’t tell you anything else, though, and I’m sorry. Can you be satisfied knowing that you’re not crazy?” It became clear that Bella had not been expecting Celeste to give her a non-bullshit answer. Obviously, Celeste hadn’t been expecting that either.

Bella opened and closed her mouth a few times before nodding.

“Y-Yeah. I – I’m not going to say anything, I just…needed to know.” Celeste nodded cautiously.

“Don’t mention this conversation to him, please.” Bella scoffed gently, rolling her eyes.

“He doesn’t even talk to me, really, so there’s no chance of that happening.” The two girls laughed together, though it was clear Bella spent much less time laughing than Celeste did. Bella’s laughter sounded unsure but not unwelcome and it was this instinct that prompted Celeste to ask:

“Hey, there’s a few of us hanging out Friday night, do you want to join?”

Startled, Bella took some time to process Celeste’s question before nodding her head mildly.

“Great, I’ll pick you up around seven!”

When Celeste had gotten home that night, her family stood in the doorway leading from the garage which appeared to be their new pattern of greeting. They stood like a cement fortress, the notion not lost on her that there would be no way to escape any type of family intervention. Celeste had barely put her backpack and coat away when Rose started in on her.

“WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM!?” Rose all but shrieked, stepping forward in an almost predatory way that would have sent any other human running for cover. However, Celeste stayed put, slowly accepting the fact that she would have to sit through more than an hour of debate due to her conversation with Bella Swan earlier that day.

Celeste shrugged, nonplussed, “She was distressed. I didn’t want to lie so I handled it a little alternatively. It’s not fair to tell someone they don’t remember things correctly – that’s called gaslighting. I would think after your many years of life you might be more familiar with the term.” She had spoken to Rosalie, but the message had been directed to everyone. Celeste had not meant to sound so apathetic – yet, that was both how her words sounded and were perceived.

“You stupid little girl,” Rose hissed, absolutely indignant. Celeste bristled, unused to her older sister speaking to her with acrid words that were usually reserved for intruders or enemies.

“You’re going to get us all found out and for what – that clumsy, pathetic human girl? I had been so sure that you were smarter than these idiotic children we must pretend around every day, but it is most evident that I was wrong. Clearly, you are just as bad.”

“Rose - ” Emmett called out from the sidelines. He was torn between wife and sister, a place that Celeste felt responsible for putting him in.

Celeste interrupted him, “I only told her that she wasn’t crazy and pretty much that she needed to drop it. I invited her to hang out with me and my friends, that’s it.” Rose straightened to her full height and took another step forward. Celeste flinched – a reflex she had thought she had lost a long time ago. Rose stopped while her family stood horrified behind her. They switched into soft focus as Celeste zeroed in on the blonde terror in front of her.

“I - ” Rosalie croaked, hands grasping at the air in front of her. While Celeste did not possess the powers of an empath, she could sense the overall dysfunction of the room. _Snuff it out_ , she thought. _Be the peacemaker_.

So, with the knowledge that Edward was anxiously probing her mind and Rose’s hands had closed into tight fists at her sides, she said:

“It’s fine, I get it.”

Celeste had spent the rest of the night holed up in her room, pretending to work on schoolwork and forgoing dinner to avoid any familial discomfort. Esme had knocked softly on the door a few times asking for entry, but Celeste hadn’t answered. She felt awful – it wasn’t like her to be so closed off from them. During detention the next day, she had gone over ways to apologize but had ultimately chosen to worry about it when the time came.

For now though, Celeste grew excited at the thought of going to Emma’s house that night. She was driving Jamie and Bella over in her car. Jamie’s brother Jack was still angry about Monday and had refused to share the car with him indefinitely.

Her parents were aware of her plans for the evening and while she had expected them to ask her to cancel, they hadn’t said anything at all. She would have to do damage control in the morning.

When detention ended and Celeste and Jamie had finally exited the building, Jamie let out a long groan.

“We’re supposed to do that for _how many_ more days?”

“Eleven, I think.” Jamie groaned in response and Celeste had expected him to complain about how arduous his life was. His phone vibrated then and halted his train of thought.

“Sadie ordered takeout and wants us to pick it up,” he said, squinting at his phone and typing out a reply.

“Yeah, no problem. We have to pick Bella up first, though.”

“Oh, right.” Jamie’s less-than-enthused tone caught Celeste off guard.

“What?”

When he didn’t reply immediately, Celeste added, “Emma and Sadie were fine with it. She’s new, she doesn’t have anyone yet. I wanted to be nice.”

Jamie rolled his eyes hard, “Your kindness disgusts me.”

“Jamie!”

He let out a dramatic moan, “Ugh, fine. It’s just, I don’t even know her. Tonight’s gonna be so awkward.” Celeste fixed him with a look that would do her mother proud.

“It’s one night, Jay. If it’s horrendous, you don’t have to hang out with her ever again.”

* * *

Jamie, Bella, and Celeste arrived at Emma’s house a quarter past seven. They fumbled with various takeout boxes, haphazardly handing them off to Sadie and Emma so they could take off their coats and shoes.

Emma’s house was larger – not as large as Celeste’s but it was one of the larger homes she had seen in Forks. While Celeste’s house featured large windows and modern elegance, Emma’s was softer and homier – filled with warmer colors and sweet family pictures. At the Cullen’s, the only family pictures were of Celeste though there were occasional pictures of the others sprinkled throughout the house.

Emma guided them down to her media room in the basement. Mr. Minsk had put up a large screen on the far wall, added a few reclining chairs, and placed a large, plush sectional for extra seating down there. The five teenagers made easy work of filling their stomachs, trying food out of various containers as they did so. Eventually, Sadie migrated to the shelves of DVDs and VHS tapes that lined the basement walls, tossing them behind her with overall disregard as she read the titles. The other four were successfully ignoring her.

“So, Bella,” Emma started, “on a scale of one to ten, how much do you hate Forks?” Bella, who was taken by surprise, faltered into a grimace-like smile.

“A five maybe.”

“Just a _five_?” Emma exclaimed. Jamie had informed Celeste of Emma’s unending hatred of cold, gray weather and therefore her abhorrence of small-town Forks. The notion initially puzzled Celeste, who had always thought of Emma as a quiet, submissive type. The more they got to know one another, however, Celeste found they both experienced that caged feeling associated with burgeoning adventurousness – or, perhaps, stifling families.

“It’s not awful,” Bella offered, though no one was all that interested in her non-answer.

“Has anyone started looking at colleges yet?” Celeste asked, changing the subject.

“Boston,” Emma answered immediately.

“Have you been?”

“No, but I know I want to go there.”

“Probably just Washington State,” Jamie shrugged.

“Hey!” Sadie called, garnering their attention, “your parents have the soundtrack to the Mamma Mia! Musical?”

Sadie might as well have set off firecrackers with how quickly everyone gathered around her to get a good look at the CD in her hand. Unbeknownst to all of them, though they shared varying degrees of friendship, was the fact that they were all huge fans of the band ABBA.

“You’re joking!”

“I love Mamma Mia!”

“Your parents like ABBA?”

All were exclamations made by teenagers struck into a state of disbelief. Emma plucked the CD from Sadie’s hand, sauntering over to the stereo next to the television. The CD plopped into its slot with a delicious _click_. Emma turned the volume up to a horrendously loud setting – and they were off to the races.

By the end of the night, they had effectively danced to every single song on the album. Bella had accidentally kicked Celeste and Sadie but mostly everyone was surprised she had had fun at all. Jamie climbed up on the coffee table during “Money, Money, Money” and he and Celeste did their own ridiculous rendition of a tango later into the night. When their voices were hoarse and the last note had been sung, they said their goodbyes and began their treks home.

Celeste dropped Jamie off first, promising to text him as he crept into his garage. She and Bella were alone in her car then, quiet unfolding before them.

“Thank you for tonight,” Bella said.

“No problem. It was really fun, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. Hey, I don’t know if you have plans but would you want to come over sometime this weekend? We could start working on that poetry project?” Bella asked. Celeste thought briefly before answering in the affirmative.

“Sure, sounds great. Text me?” They had pulled up to the Swan house so Celeste and Bella exchanged goodbyes in her driveway.

Sickly panic sank in as soon as Celeste came blazing down her street. She’d subconsciously noticed her phone vibrating throughout the night but she had totally ignored it – the hot-cold tingles currently rising up the back of her neck evidence of that. Her Mini Cooper nuzzled into its spot in the garage but even once she had turned the engine off, she stayed in her car. She flipped open her phone to reveal more than 30 calls or texts flashing across the screen.

**From: Mom**

**You were supposed to be home an hour ago.**

**Edward: 3 Missed Calls**

**From: Edward**

**Answer your phone, Celeste.**

**From: Emmett**

**Sloost, where are you?**

**From: Emmett**

**Sloost???**

**Dad: 4 missed calls**

**From: Dad**

**I genuinely hope that’s you I hear in the garage.**

The last one had come in as Celeste had been sitting in her car. _Oh shit,_ that _really makes me want to go in there_.

**From: Edward**

**Prolonging it will only make it worse.**

_Oh, shut up,_ Celeste thought bitterly, _like you’re one to talk_. She sighed, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. _They’re going to eat me alive – literally_.

There was no one to be seen when she got inside. She had been fully expecting an intervention style semi-circle barricading the entrance but for some reason…that was not the case. Making the mistake of letting out a premature sigh of relief, Celeste tiptoed to the staircase – but an attention-grabbing cough over her shoulder turned her heart to ice.

There stood her dad – blonde hair perfectly coifed, button up shirt and tie impeccably matched with a navy-blue pullover, Italian leather shoes shining – with the most poised expression ever worn by an irritated parent. None of the others were visible, but she could sense eyes and ears all around them. Carlisle took a stance of wealthy nonchalance – back straight with hands in the pockets of his pressed pants.

A sheepish cringe pulled at her lips.

“Hi,” she greeted weakly. Her father looked on thoughtfully, his never-angry face filling Celeste with a dense dread.

“Why don’t we talk in the study?” Celeste did not know when she had noticed it, but throughout her life – whenever she got in trouble – her father would always refer to his study as _the_ study. The room, though never changing physically, now held a different purpose. It was no longer a place of solitude and leisure for her father but a place of discipline. In some indeterminable, perhaps unconscious way, he wanted to dissociate himself from any type of negative connotation.

They went on into _the_ study – Celeste following Carlisle with her head angled down. He moved fluidly to sit in the leather arm chair behind his three-hundred-year-old Oak desk. She awaited her fate, expecting calmly delivered disappointment – which, Celeste felt, had to be worse than anger or frustration.

“It’s nearly two in the morning,” her father pointed out, pinning her with his scientific eyes.

“I know,” Celeste replied, ashamed. The only excuse she had was that she had lost track of time, had been unaware of anything other than a Friday night full of blossoming friendship.

Carlisle did not respond right away, he analyzed her first with a technical yet fatherly gaze. He drummed his fair fingers upon his desk – more of an individual gesture than a show of humanity. He lifted his hand up, rubbing at his chin. Celeste shifted, growing more nervous as the quiet continued.

“Your curfew is twelve-thirty,” he proceeded gently, “And though you have never been late before, I am hesitant to let you off the hook.”

Celeste nodded. She refused to look up.

“I do not want to punish you, sweetheart, but with your earlier incident this week and now staying out late…I believe it would go against my ethics to reward you.” Celeste nodded again.

“Celeste, is something wrong? Forgive me, but you do not seem yourself.” _What do I even say?_ she thought, _I’m not sure how I’m feeling – how would I put it into words?_

“I don’t know, dad,” Celeste whispered.

“She’s afraid she likes spending time with her human friends more than she likes spending time with us,” Edward’s clear, bored voice cut through the air. Celeste’s chest flared with burning irritation.

“Shut up,” she admonished, turning in her chair to send her brother the nastiest of stink eyes. He was leaning casually against the doorframe, unaffected by her obvious annoyance.

“Clearly,” Edward mused, “you can experience more _human_ things with your friends. It would be unsurprising if you were to like them better.” Celeste continued to glare at him as he pressed on.

“Think about it, if you had a human family, you wouldn’t have to eat all your meals alone or apologize for a papercut…” His voice had become arrogant and while Edward had always tended to be haughty, his frustration with Bella Swan had begun to spill over into every interaction. Celeste disliked how he spoke to her – disliked what he was implying – and so she stood up from her chair to (uncharacteristically, for her) get close to his face.

“You’re impossible!” she berated, “You mope around here all the time and stay cocooned in all of this weird self-loathing. You know what? I don’t like how you’re being right now. You don’t get to transfer your feelings onto my life – that’s not fair. Just stay out of my head, Edward. You don’t _know_ anything.”

Celeste could not tell if he had meant to appear predatory when he took a step closer to her, but that had been her general interpretation. Some of his reddish hair had fallen into his amber eyes and the muted light in the room reflected off his perfect teeth.

“But you did think it, didn’t you?”

* * *

By Sunday morning, Celeste had not spoken to Rosalie or Edward in almost twenty-four hours. Her father broke up she and Edward’s mental screaming match almost as soon as it had started – asking Edward to leave the room so that he could resume their conversation. Celeste had lost all motivation to reveal her conflicted feelings to her father after that.

Carlisle only barely concealed his sadness over her choice to remain tight-lipped. They wrapped up the conversation with her designated punishment – one week of no car and no friends.

She called Bella on Saturday to cancel their plans, still clad in her soft, gray pajamas. Bella was understanding and even apologized for being an additional factor for her tardiness.

“It’s not your fault,” Celeste had said, “but hey, let’s plan for next weekend maybe?”

“Yeah, I would like that.”

“Great, I’ll see you Monday.”

Celeste wandered down to the kitchen, wincing at how relieved she was when she realized Esme wasn’t waiting with a plate of gourmet breakfast foods. _I just can’t face her_ , she thought. _Not when I know how upset she is with me._ Carlisle had mentioned that Esme had worried about Celeste all night. She was concerned that Celeste had grown tired of her life with the Cullen’s – a fear that Edward had most likely confirmed.

Celeste made a bowl of cereal, moving so robotically that she did not realize that she had finished it until her spoon scraped against the bottom of the empty bowl. She sighed at the lack of activity in her home – it felt like years had passed since she had spoken to anyone. Her chest ached. She missed her family, her weird family that also happened to be her very best friends – no form of mortal companionship could ever change that.

The ache in Celeste’s chest turned into the kind of boredom that had her counting the number of flecks in the marble counter. She was leaning her head into her fisted hand, shutting off her mind for however long she could.

“Why the long face?” An amused ex-Revolutionary soldier asked, walking confidently into the room.

Celeste, a modern-day teenager who had only ever experienced the battlefield that was Forks High School, appeared thoroughly _un_ amused. Garrett leaned across the counter, his mussed hair still giving her wannabe rocker vibes – an inhumanly attractive rocker, but a wannabe rocker, nonetheless.

Celeste sighed, annoyed by how often that was happening lately.

“I’m an idiot,” she shrugged, burrowing her cheek further into her fist.

“Broke curfew, huh?” Celeste’s head and hand moved apart so quickly that there was an audible _smack_ as the suction broke. She now had a huge red mark on the side of her face. Garrett choked on his chuckle.

“How did you know that?” Garrett raised an eyebrow at her.

“You’ve lived with vamps your whole life and _that’s_ your question?” _Celeste, you’re an idiot_.

“Right,” Celeste scoffed, “I forget sometimes.”

“Hey kid, it’s okay. You’re human, you should want to feel human.” _So, he heard that, too_.

“I know,” Celeste replied, even though she didn’t know. She glanced up just in time to see Garrett searching her face, gauging her.

“I met George Washington once,” he said, eyes far away, watching something from long ago. “I never shook his hand, or even looked him in the eye. But…I could tell from how he watched all of us that he understood. He understood what we had left behind, what we were fighting for. He wanted what we wanted. I’ve never felt prouder to have been a part of anything – me, a tavern owner, the son of a drunkard.” Celeste had never seen Garrett be anything other than smug and sarcastic. She was, undoubtedly, transfixed by this change in the atmosphere.

“I lost so many friends, neighbors, comrades. They gave their lives for the cause. I just gave up my humanity.”

“You were turned during the war, weren’t you?” Garrett looked at her gratefully, silent gratitude filling his gaze.

“Battle of Newtown,” he nodded, “It was about a year or so later that I met Carlisle – or as you may know him, dad.” Celeste giggled despite her unhappy mood.

“You met at the Siege of Yorktown, right?” Garrett’s eye went wide with moderate surprise before leveling back to their original size. This made Celeste smile with a hint of smugness.

“I do listen, you know. I have a strong attention span – for a _human_ anyway.” They laughed together at her exaggeration and funny facial expression. Celeste found it easy to match a conversational pace with Garrett. She liked his humor and how unbothered he was by his immortality. After living for almost eighteen years with two antique drama queens, his nonchalance was a welcome change. His ruby red eyes no longer ruffled her or made her wary – but rather, she could see the genuine curiosity and amity beholden to them.

“Alright, Mr. Patriot,” Celeste said when the laughter died down, “Now, you have me interested. Tell me everything.”

Celeste listened to Garrett recount his experiences from the Revolution, taking in every detail she could possibly gather. The wonderful thing about being in a family of vampires was that she certainly never failed history class. They had not moved from their spots in the kitchen and not another soul (though the presence of these were debatable to _some_ in her family) had been seen. It was four in the afternoon by the time she looked at the clock again.

“Oh, jeez!” Celeste exclaimed, “I should probably finish that Spanish paper.”

Garrett straightened from his leaning posture. Celeste had always been taken by the idea of never growing tired or sore from standing in the same position for hours, weeks, or days on end. In fact, she had to admit, it would be a useful skill to have – though that’s where her praising of vampiric abilities stopped.

“Good luck, kid,” Garrett tipped his head at her, sending her a good-natured wink. “I have my own _assignments_ to attend to.” The wind _whooshed_ past as Garrett sped out into the green, cosmic forest beyond.

* * *

Celeste finished her paper an hour or so later, stretching out her shoulders as she waited for her pages to print. She had not changed out of her pajamas all day, but the full-on grungy disgustingness of her body did not hit her until the moment her paper was completed. A switch flipped and suddenly she could feel the greasy ridges of her slept-on ponytail and the dampness of her unwashed face. Showering became her only mission.

When said mission was completed and Celeste felt alive again, she went to get in some fresh pajamas. Instead of finding clothes, however, she found a tiny intruder perched demurely on her bed.

Celeste dropped her towel.

“ALICE!”

Alice, who was wholly unaffected by her flailing and now naked sister, blinked and tilted her head like a bemused cat.

“What is she like?” _What on earth…?_

“Uh, who?”

“Bella! Honestly, Celeste, who else?”

_We’re really talking about this, aren’t we?_

“Uh, well. She’s nice, a bit awkward, I guess. She likes ABBA too, so that pretty much sealed the deal for me. That girl could set off an atomic bomb and I would still be her friend.” The last part was said with sarcasm but Alice…definitely did not pick up on it.

“That is wonderful! I wonder if she would like me or if she would go shopping with me…” Alice babbled on. Celeste fumbled for her towel and felt the familiar bubble of irritation in her stomach.

“Ahem, Alice,” her sister stopped speaking immediately – her words dropping out of the air. “Could we discuss this later maybe? Like after I get dressed?” Her tiny sister blanched just slightly but kept her award-winning smile slotted in place.

“Of course! I’ll just come back then.” Alice glanced around the room uncomfortably, thoughts running through her mind. Celeste stood and watched her with a twinge in her heart. _Why am I being such an asshole?_

“Just five minutes, seriously.” Alice nodded enthusiastically, though the muted sadness in her eyes planted a seed of doubt for Celeste.

Alice did not come back into her room that night.

* * *

With the tension permeating throughout the Cullen house, Celeste had resigned herself to her bedroom for the week. Though, if she were being honest, she had been using her room as a fort for a while now. At school, she mostly hung out with Jamie, Emma, Sadie, and Bella – alternating her time between Jamie’s lunch table and her own. She rather foolishly avoided her siblings but more out of her own shame than any harbored anger.

Jasper kept alternating between sending her disapproving and sympathetic looks throughout the day. Rose and Edward effectively ignored her, but Alice and Emmett would send her smiles when she mustered the courage to turn their way.

So when Celeste found her infuriating, nosy, depressing (the list could go on and on, really) brother Edward waiting on the other side of her bedroom door as she was about to sneak into the kitchen, she almost had a conniption.

His face, as usual, was neutral but his eyes were sorrowful.

“Celeste, may I speak with you?”

Of all her siblings, Edward was the least likely to use any sort of pet name or nickname. From her own observations, he thrived off traditional values and formalities. Thus, he also happened to be the most socially awkward of her siblings for this very reason. Celeste wanted to remain angry with him for his accusations over the weekend, but instead she sighed and shifted her weight to one hip, crossing her arms as she did so.

“I’m listening.”

His eyebrows shot up, shock evident in his expression. _Good_.

“I want to apologize for my behavior on Friday night. It was inconceivably rude of me to make assumptions out of your thoughts. You know that I…have certain attitudes about our kind and that I have often disliked what I am. Yet, it was unfair of me to unleash that on you. You are my sister first and I should have been more respectful of your privacy.” He looked her in the eye during the apology – something that Celeste had not realized she liked until her brother did it in that moment. She knew he was genuine because of those sad, liquid eyes. For all his faults, her brother was a gentleman first and a vampire second.

She exhaled forcefully, not having the energy to maintain her resolve.

“I forgive you.”

“So easily?” He asked, his brows knitted together. Celeste stood half bewildered and half exhausted by him.

“If you’re going to be like that, then I can always change my mind.” Celeste leaned against the doorframe, smiling as his lips twitched upwards.

“Very well,” he nodded at her once, hands clasped behind his back. When he stood like this, Celeste thought he resembled a butler from one of the Victorian era dramas she liked so much. Then, surprising them both, she reached out and embraced him.

The hug was awkward, and it took Edward more than a minute to wrap his arms around her in return. They had not hugged in a long time – now that Celeste thought about it, she might have still been in braces.

“I love you, Ed,” she mumbled, burying her face into his kind, icy shoulder.

“I love you, sister mine.”

Her family may be bloodsucking monsters – but they were also the most loving, warm souls (and yes, Celeste did believe in their souls) she had ever known. Hugging Edward may have been a small step, but it gave her hope for her future, her family’s future. Maybe they might just make it out of Forks unscathed.

Celeste did not know if she believed in happily ever after, perfect relationships, true love – but she had not yet experienced those possibilities. However, she did believe in her family, in their love, their loyalty. With them, she could do anything – they just had to get out of this slump. They had to.

They would.


	5. Into the [Werewolf's] Den

On a weekend morning in March, Celeste woke up feeling so much like her friend Jamie Rivers that she silently cursed his name. Jamie notoriously had the strangest, disturbing, and most original dreams. In general, Celeste did not. However, between the drama within her family and her impending annual trip to La Push, her dreams had become more disconcerting. Celeste was convinced that it was the stress of playing moderator for her awkward immortal brother and her new human friend. Being the only Cullen allowed on Quileute territory could also be an added factor.

Over the past month, Celeste had successfully reconciled with all her family members – though getting Rosalie to come around had been a two-week long chore. Celeste tried buying her new shoes, making herself available for some quality sister bonding time, and endless compliments but it took calling Rosalie out on her cold shoulder treatment before things began to mend. The last few weeks had been relatively peaceful since their drama had been eradicated – not counting Edward’s unending internal anguish over Bella. Even then, Edward had been ignoring her so the Cullens had been mostly spared from any unnecessary gossip.

Then, Wednesday happened.

For some uninterpretable reason, Edward had decided to take a new interest in the most recent Forks resident. After the drama unleashed when he had decided to play hero several weeks earlier, Celeste had thought he had had enough excitement to last another millennium.

Apparently, the nearly100-year-old virgin had other plans.

On Wednesday, Bella got asked to the school dance by _three_ different people. Now, Celeste knew that the insane number of asks was more than likely because Bella was the newest girl around. However, Celeste could not understand how people couldn’t see that Bella clearly was not interested in attending a dance. Bella certainly was not interested in any of the boys at Forks High – she had told Celeste as much. Although, Celeste _was_ sure that Bella Swan had a thing for her dramatic vampire brother, despite the girl never once admitting it out loud. Edward might not have been able to read Bella’s mind, but Celeste could read her body language.

Bella must have looked over at the Cullens’ table approximately eighty-seven times during lunch each day – even then that was likely an underestimate. Celeste had not been so sure about how Edward felt about Bella until after school on Wednesday when she heard him pacing around his room for the better part of three hours.

* * *

Celeste descended the sleek staircase with careful footfalls. The house was quiet – everyone had gone out on a hunt – and so she visibly jolted when she saw Edward sitting at his piano, staring melancholically at the smooth keys. He had no doubt noticed her because of his heightened senses but nonetheless, he remained in his own depressive reverie.

Celeste bit her lip, feeling discomfort wind its way up her spine. She passed into the kitchen without a word spoken between the two of them, all the while suppressing the desire to walk close to the wall to make herself unseen. As it was the weekend, Celeste disregarded her routine and began slathering two pieces of multigrain bread with plentiful helpings of peanut butter, honey, and bananas. Had her dad been home, he would have certainly raised a slightly judgmental eyebrow in her direction, expressing his disapproval without words.

 _Whatever_ , Celeste thought, pulling idly at the ends of her ponytail that had made their way over her shoulder. _He’ll never know, and by the looks of it - Eddie boy will forget to tell him_. She continued piling on sliced banana, still playing with her hair. Her fingers caught in her hair then, getting stuck in some sticky goop. _Oh for the love of all the honeybees…honey. I have honey in my hair. Ew ew ew, get it out get it out…turn on the sink. Put the sandwich together. Oh shoot, don’t drop it. Turn on the water turn on the water…ah, yes. Problem solved._ Then Edward, the immortal lump that he was becoming as of late, breezed grumpily into the kitchen. Vampires, Celeste had surmised, were unable to be clumsy or unattractive at any time and therefore even awkward encounters were somehow still charming.

Despite the frenzied energy hanging around him, her brother’s mood seemed to brighten when he took in her current predicament. He leaned against the counter while poorly stifling a chuckle. Celeste, in all her efforts, had managed to eat her mountain of a sandwich – honey and peanut butter oozing out its sides and down her arm – with one hand while simultaneously leaning over the sink and rinsing her stuck-together hair strands with the other.

“Perhaps you could have waited to eat the sandwich until after you had fixed your hair.” Celeste glared at him.

“Dude, look at who you’re talking to.” He shook his head, clearly debating whether to help Celeste or to continue watching her struggle to multitask on her own. Edward eventually sighed, pushing himself lithely from the counter to go to Celeste’s aid. Celeste chewed her sandwich while Edward pulled her sticky pieces of hair apart. They did not speak at first, mostly because Celeste’s mouth was coated in peanut butter and Edward _definitely_ knew that from the weird strain of thoughts going through her mind.

When Celeste had swallowed the last bit of sandwich and Edward had successfully dried the ends of her hair with a paper towel, Edward ended the silence.

“May I ask you a question?” Celeste – mid hand wash – peeked over her shoulder at her brother, a knowing sensation spreading over her chest. From his tender yet curious tone, she knew that their conversation was going to shift to the subject of Bella.

Not only had Bella been asked to the dance by three different people on Wednesday, but on Thursday – the day that Mr. Banner decided to have students test for their blood type in his Biology class – Edward took her to the nurse’s office when she practically passed out at the sight of her own blood. Celeste found this hilariously ironic, but the rest of her family had bristled at this – getting close to humans was a dangerous line to dance along. To add to the dysfunction, Edward had offered to drive Bella to Seattle the weekend of the dance. His behavior had become strange, but Celeste could not find it in herself to be angry with him. He was…actually genuinely happy for the first time. Edward seemed to care for this girl.

Although, sneaking into unsuspecting human girls’ bedrooms – a habit he had picked up as of late – was more creepy than sweet as far as Celeste was concerned.

For these reasons, Celeste bit her lip delicately, nodding her head to prompt Edward to ask his question. A smile flashed across his face before his forehead creased so hard Celeste thought it might crack.

“You are…perceptive,” Edward observed, echoing her thoughts. “How would you – How should I go about…approaching Miss Swan?” Celeste forced herself not to laugh at his formality.

“Well, for starters, you could think of something more interesting to say than ‘the wasting of finite resources is everyone’s business,’” Celeste half-teased, earning her a small, human-proof shove.

“Seriously,” she continued, “be polite, ask her questions, tell her about yourself. A conversation consists of some give and take.” Edward seemed unsure by this answer, scrunching his eyebrows. Celeste laughed.

“Hey,” she added, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder, “you’re going to be fine. Just pretend to breathe and you’ll be great.” He stared at her blankly.

“Oh, and don’t eat her.”

* * *

The morning of the La Push trip, Celeste woke up half filled with two types of feelings – one of dread and one of anticipation. She let out a groan that, depending on the observer, could have been perceived as one of contempt or one of excitement. Either interpretation would have held some form of accuracy. The truth was that although Celeste had gone on the trip for the last two years and had always enjoyed spending the day with her human friends, little seeds of paranoia always crept in when she least expected it.

She constantly worried that the Quileutes would sniff her out – pun most certainly intended, but in a dreary, dark humor kind of way. Celeste waited for the other shoe to drop every time she set foot on First Beach. Her smiles were seventy-five percent genuine, fifteen percent paranoia, and ten percent embarrassment. She went from having fun, to looking over her shoulder, to feeling ashamed that she felt nervous – not always in that order. Celeste did not want to have the weight of some age-old supernatural guilt hovering over her life every time she went to the Reservation. Yet, for the third year in a row, she would be the perfect, well-behaved human peacemaker. _Joy_.

Celeste vaguely noticed Alice flitting through her closet, effortlessly picking out her beach outfit with coordinated precision. Most days, Celeste would be completely bothered by this invasion of privacy, this total lack of control or choice in her life. On this morning, though, she experienced the relief, a reprieve from decision making. Alice, when she had finished laying out her clothes, gave Celeste the kind of soft smile that made her think that Alice would have been a wonderful mother in her human life. There was more to the little clairvoyant than most gave her credit for. Beyond her shopaholic nature and impenetrable cheerfulness, lay a pure heart with the kindest of intentions – a loyal companion in life and _un_ life.

“Thanks, Allie,” Celeste smiled back, calling her sister a name she hadn’t used since middle school. Alice’s smile gracefully widened, a jingling giggle ringing out from her chest.

“Of course, silly. Anything for my sister.”

* * *

Everyone met up at Newton’s Olympic Outfitters – the outdoor equipment store owned by Mike’s parents. Mike wanted to take most people in his van, though a few stragglers piled into another designated carpool vehicle before they all set off to First Beach in La Push. Celeste settled in next to Bella, allowing herself to partake in some calm-inducing small talk. She could feel the pestering hum starting low in her body, the terrifying anticipation of what might await at this hormone addled teenage adventure. Celeste leaned her head against her window, doing her best to avoid analyzing the specks of dust, dirt, and grime that grew along the rims of Mike Newton’s well-used van.

The beautiful, lush trees hushed Celeste’s churning insides. They comforted and held her, transfixing her eye with their sharp splendor. As the emerald pine began to thin and a driftwood-filled beach started to slip into view, the comfort edged away. Celeste, in an onset of panic, began to softly clear her throat every thirty seconds or so to ease the choking sensation that was stealing her air.

“Hey Celeste, you coming?” Bella asked, maneuvering her body out of the van. Celeste nodded and followed suit.

She hopped down from the doorway, slamming the heavy metal door behind her. She wished Jamie were there, she had invited him, but he was going to visit his grandmother in Aberdeen for the weekend. At least he might have cracked a joke that would make her forget to freak out. His off-beat humor would have been a wonderful distraction.

Celeste even, for a moment, wished she could talk to Garrett. He had left two weeks prior and though his presence would have made La Push’s inhabitants less than thrilled, Celeste knew that he could crack the agonizing awkwardness boiling inside of her. They had become friendly by the end of his stay with the Cullens, often bantering after Celeste had finished her homework or around dinnertime. He had left to continue his nomadic lifestyle, growing restless with the hunting restrictions around Forks. Celeste, despite the hectic tone of her life, found she missed him in his absence.

Shrugging off her thoughts of Garrett, Celeste hiked onto the beach, doing her best to emulate the elated smiles of her peers. She played with the ends of her braid – a hairstyle that Rose had insisted upon when she left that morning – while her friends ran toward the edge of the water.

“Hey,” Angela nudged her side, “Are you okay today?” Celeste, pretending not to be totally startled nodded aggressively.

“I’m great,” she said.

“Yeah, I don’t believe you.” Celeste faked a giggle and shrugged, sending her friend an exaggerated wink.

“Celeste!” Eric yelled, waving her over to grab a surfboard.

“I’ll meet up with you later!” Celeste told Angela, happy to flee their conversation.

A couple of hours later, after successfully standing up on the board five times and wiping out twice, Celeste climbed out of the water soaking wet. Her braids had fallen out and her wet hair had molded to her shoulders. She went back to the van to change into her dry clothes, drying her sopping hair and re-braiding it to get the matted mess out of her way.

As she was walking back, her breath caught in her throat. Bella had wandered off with Jacob Black down the beach and a few other boys from the Reservation had joined her friends near a circle of driftwood. _Oh crap. Crap, crap, crap._ She slowed down her walk, glancing down at her feet to avoid catching anyone’s eye. She had met the same boys – she thought their names were Quil Ateara, Embry Call, and Sam Uley – the last two years that she had been there. They had always been polite, she remembered Embry being rather funny, but the fear that they might miraculously realize her “parentage” kept her wary.

Embry waved as she approached. The gesture gave her nervous heart a break.

“Hi,” Celeste waved back, voiced filled with her usually outgoing gusto. _Thank God_.

“How are you?” she continued, allowing herself a brief glance over her shoulder to find where Bella was again. At this point, there was no stopping whatever she was going to find out. Celeste had to mentally shrug it off, though it felt like some sort of weird familial betrayal to do so.

“Good, ya know. Getting all the ladies, the usual,” Embry answered.

“If by ladies, you mean your mom,” Quil scoffed beside him.

“Yeah, I’m sure. You’re irresistible obviously,” Celeste quipped, gaining her a high five from Quil.

They carried on making jokes and jibes at Embry’s expense, much to his chagrin. They only stopped when his face started turning red, suggesting that maybe they should focus their jesting energy elsewhere. Celeste chanced another look over her shoulder – _don’t be too obvious_ – and noticed that Bella and Jacob had started to walk back towards the rest of the group. From this distance, Celeste could not quite decipher the expression on Bella’s face. Somehow, she just sensed that Jacob had told her something. Whether that something was a Quileute legend or something more factual, she had yet to find out.

When she turned back around, Sam was staring at her. His face conveyed neither positive nor negative emotion. From Celeste’s point of view, it seemed like he was sizing her up or trying to figure out where he had seen her before. Celeste mentally rolled her eyes, _I’m here once a year, just like the rest of them._ She raised her eyebrows at him, but he didn’t say a word to explain his actions. She shrugged, focusing back on a laughing Jacob and Bella who were now officially reunited with the group.

Celeste and her friends lingered on the beach for another thirty minutes before saying their goodbyes and loading into their carpool vehicles. Embry and Quil had sent her off with high fives and last-minute banter. She would have politely said goodbye to Sam and Jacob, too, but she no longer saw either of them. _Eh, whatever_.

On the way home, Celeste sat in mostly awkward silence next to Bella. It was safe to assume that they were both stuck in a vortex of secretive silence – both understood that the other knew way more than they should about whatever weirdness was convoluting Forks, Washington.

Living in constant fear that some unwitting human would find out her family’s secret was more than a little exhausting for Celeste – that much was for certain. Yet, for some reason, this girl – this clumsy, awkward girl with perhaps the worst timing ever (the strange nomads that Garrett spoke of had started showing up in Alice’s visions) put her at ease. If someone was so determined to find out the vampire secret and recklessly ready to plunge head first into that weird world – _well, then,_ Celeste thought, _let her_. It wouldn’t be just Celeste’s problem anymore – and Celeste, though fairly disgusted with herself for thinking it, was almost delighted by that prospect.

_Whatever will be, will be._

* * *

One amazing thing about having a clairvoyant for a sister meant that Celeste never had to worry about what dress she would wear for school dances. While her friends had planned a trip to find dresses in Port Angeles – an adventure Bella had also agreed to despite stating numerous times that she absolutely was _not_ going to be a dance attendee – she and Alice had gone shopping in Olympia days before because Alice had _seen_ _it all_.

Alice had a knack for letting Celeste _believe_ she had picked her dress all on her own (Celeste had independence issues, Alice had control issues – it was a _delightful_ dynamic) and then flitting around like an excited fairy when the final transaction occurred ( _You picked the_ right _one, Cellie_!). Regardless of how they found it, the dress _was_ perfect for Celeste. It was peachy pink with a V-neck and butterfly sleeves, tapering in at the waist and falling gently over her knees. The dress had a somewhat classic tone to it that fit both Celeste and the life she had come from. Needless to say, Celeste loved the dress and actually didn’t care that Alice had orchestrated the whole thing – just this once, _of course_. Though, it might have been a bit much. Celeste was just going with a group of friends.

Or, she might not go at all.

Considering the current level of anxiety in the Cullen household, thinking and discussing dresses for a school dance was welcome conversation.

Celeste, doing her familial duty, had informed the others of her growing suspicions about what was said between Jacob Black and Bella during the beach outing. If they had been a family of felines, Celeste was certain their hackles would have stood on end. She hadn’t seen Edward or spoken to Rosalie much since then mostly for her own emotional health.

At school, she had taken to avoiding Bella as well – opting to sit with Jamie, Sadie, and Emma to keep from coming under question. Bella had caught her eye many times lately, seemingly ready to interrogate the least intimidating source that could silence all her puzzlement. Thus, Celeste took the more cowardly approach of averting her eyes during the most moments to avoid being the weakest link in the Cullen family. _Ironic, isn’t it_ , Celeste wondered, _that in order to avoid weakness I have to_ be _weak_?

So instead of going with Jess, Angela, and Bella to Port Angeles, Celeste went over to Jamie’s house after school. They feasted on microwave popcorn and barbecue chips and watched stupid movies that were more entertaining to make fun of than sit through.

“So what’s up with your brother and Bella?” Jamie asked near the end of the night. _Can’t I just go one day without the two of them being the topic of conversation?_ Celeste sighed.

“Honestly I don’t know. They’re both enigmas. Bella definitely likes him and he’s so…apprehensive about dating. It’s weird.” Jamie made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat.

“That’s why I think it would work, though. They’re both kind of weird, ya know? A little offbeat.” Celeste couldn’t help but wonder if Jamie wanted to bring up the rest of her family, too. Everyone noticed how strange they were, Jamie’s ears weren’t immune to the gossip mill – no matter how much Celeste wished they were. People liked her, sure, but she wasn’t an undead being cursed to walk the earth for an eternity, draining the blood of other living beings to exist. When she thought about vampires that way, even she could not help but shiver. Her family didn’t scare her, but with as cold as they acted at school it made sense that people would experience an instinctual unease around them.

“I don’t think Bella is weird,” Celeste defended, not liking Jamie’s choice of words.

Jamie shrugged at her comment, “O-kay, but I wouldn’t say she acts like a normal teenager. She’s…quiet.” Celeste had to force her mouth not to drop open. _Since when did he start talking like his brother?_

“So quiet is weird?”

“Ugh, no,” Jamie sat up quickly, trying his best to remediate the situation and failing, “quiet is just unnerving or – well, I mean – awkward, I guess, maybe?” His voice had gone up in pitch and Celeste could tell he had not planned for the conversation to take this turn. She understood where he was coming from, but she didn’t like what was he implying.

“Quiet is quiet,” Celeste stated. She kept her tone calm but firm – an impressive feat for anyone regardless of teenage hormones.

“It’s not necessarily a bad thing,” she continued, “a quiet person might think a talkative person was weird, too. So who’s really to say what’s weird and what’s not?”

Jamie kind of nodded at this, sheepishly ducking his head when a beat of silence washed over them.

“Sorry,” he said, “it’s hard to talk around the foot in my mouth.” Celeste smiled.

“I’m not mad,” she teased, “just disappointed.” Their laughter filled the basement and broke the tension.

“Shut up, you weirdo.” Celeste threw a pillow at him but continued to laugh.

“What?” he asked, “Too soon?”

* * *

Celeste made it home _before_ curfew that night – a habit she had built after her grounding finally ended. Nevertheless, she creeped into the house, making a beeline attempt to her bedroom. She had almost made it to the staircase when she heard some aggressive whispering coming from her father’s study. It sounded like more than one voice, maybe the entire family, were discussing something unsettling.

“We have to move now and it’s all your fault!”

“She doesn’t know, I didn’t tell her.”

“Everything will be fine, I’ve seen it.”

“But your visions _are_ subject to change.”

“It would be unwise to do nothing about this current situation.”

The sharp whispers clapped at Celeste’s ears – their high frequency and disproportionately rapid speed causing her mind to swim.

She hovered at the stairs, internally debating whether to ignore the quarrel taking place in the study or heading to the safety of her room. There had been a time when Celeste’s family had made sure to exclude her from family meetings regarding the supernatural. Now, with this added mundane drama, they made sure to gather her opinion whenever she was available to advise them.

Celeste always thought she would be excited to finally be included in more serious family discussions, that she would feel more important being able to provide insight instead of being the fragile family member that had no real place in a lethal, impossible world. She had always thought that – but now that her opinion was sought after, all she wanted was for things to go back to the way they were before the events of January began. Celeste liked Bella – in fact, if things between her and Edward continued on the same trajectory, she thought she might be great for her brother. However, she was beginning to dislike being the voice of reason, the source of human insight for a family that had long ago forgotten what it was like to need air, food, and water.

Celeste sighed, slinging her head back and scrunching her eyes tight. _I’m going in anyway, aren’t I?_

“Guys?” Celeste asked tentatively, brazenly hoping that they would have no current use for her. The fast-paced whispering stopped, and Celeste took this as her cue to wander towards the source of the sound. She slipped her bag off her shoulder, wanting to go into the fray without any physical weight adding to the intensity of the moment.

She rounded the corner, cupping a hand over her mouth to hold back the chuckles that were positively threatening to erupt from her body. Seven pairs of eyes turned to look at her standing in the doorway.

 _They are totally losing their shit,_ Celeste mused loudly, making Edward visibly wince.

_Sorry._

Celeste’s amusement was well-founded, though. The seven vampires that made up the composition of her family leaning towards each other, some looking hostile (Rose, Edward, and slightly Jasper) while the rest were standing at the edges of the room looking on in relative concern. The funniest part of it all happened to be that they were all still as statues, like they had been sculpted by a great Renaissance artist – there was so much emotion in the room and yet, no one moved a fraction of an inch.

“So, what happened?” Celeste asked, doing her best to remain serious.

Rose spoke up first, “Edward played hero to the Swan girl again.” _Of course_.

“Okay?”

“He is single-handedly ruining this for all of us!” Rose yelled, causing Celeste’s eye to twitch.

“We shouldn’t jump to conclusions, Rosalie,” Carlisle pointed out, keeping his voice level but assertive.

“Are you really _defending_ him right now?”

“Rose,” Esme scolded. Rosalie huffed and leaned back against Emmett.

Over the course of the next few minutes, Carlisle calmly explained the newest situation that their family would have to deal with. Apparently, and without Celeste’s knowledge, Edward had gone to Port Angeles on his own to make sure that Bella was “safe”.

Celeste had many opinions about the whole situation – and while her brother’s stalkerish habits were less than endearing – she wanted to focus more on diffusing the tension in the room first before unpacking all of _that_.

“I really think we need to unwind the coil a bit here,” Celeste said, suddenly hit with the fact that she had become the mediator, somehow surpassing her father because of the strange territory her family had waded into.

“Like I’ve said a thousand times before -,”

“Thirty-five,” Edward threw in, point blank. “Don’t hyperbolize.”

Celeste swiveled her head, sending him an unimpressed glare, “It would be in your best interest to shut up right now.” He went silent, his mouth hardening.

“Like I’ve _said_ ,” she continued, emphasizing her lack of hyperbole, “I don’t think she would tell people the family secret, and if she and Edward want to be together – if that’s something that’s happening now – then that’s their business.” When no one said anything and Celeste effectively felt like the only person with a functioning brain in the room, she started speaking again.

“Let’s focus on the positives unless we _ha_ ve to focus on the negatives. Edward saved a human girl that makes his thirst almost insatiable and he _didn’t_ kill her afterward? Positive. Edward is actually a little happy these days? Positive. And yeah, a man was killed by some rogue vampires and Bella Swan has the worst timing ever to move here – both of those are negatives. _But_ Bella isn’t the person to blame for those things. So, if we should be freaking out about anything, it would be these crazy red-eyed carnivores that can absolutely be stopped. Fair?”

For the first time in her generally short life, Celeste felt like she had more common sense than anyone else in the room. Usually, she would give that role to her father.

She watched her family process her words, taking longer to think them over than usual but still less time than the average human. Alice came around to stand next to Celeste, placing her arm around her waist.

“I’m with Celeste.”

That night confirmed it, when it came to teenage girls, Celeste had more knowledge than a 400 year old man.


	6. Double Human, Double Trouble

Over the next few days, the Cullens were both on and off edge. Bella had indeed discovered the family’s secret and while she had kept to her word – meaning, no one at school would have ever guessed what supernatural secret Charlie Swan’s daughter had just uncovered – Celeste’s family remained on guard. Celeste had largely chosen to avoid any further family discussions, choosing to spend most of her time avoiding any drama while enjoying whatever normalcy she had created for herself in this small town in the Pacific Northwest. Her days continued like they had previously – laughing with Jamie, Sadie, and Emma, completing homework, and living a blissfully mundane life. Once Edward and Bella were officially a couple (a notion that shocked more than a _few_ of her human friends), Celeste had reverted to hiding out in her bedroom again, waiting for the fire in the air to descend to a simmer before venturing outside of her metaphorical burrow.

In the cafeteria, Celeste did her best to avoid staring at the new couple at their private table, even though her gaze did seem to drift every few minutes. As much as she did not want to think about the danger a relationship of this nature may cause, she found her mind slipping into a more negative, apprehensive place the longer the relationship continued.

Despite Celeste being friends with Bella before she had started dating Edward, she found herself getting strangely anxious the day he was to bring her to their house for dinner – and not only because she had never had a human friend over to eat with her family before. She assumed Bella would have an infinite number of questions which might lead to the disclosure of Celeste’s origins. Although the story was not particularly painful for Celeste, she still felt decidedly uncomfortable letting people in on her weird secret. She tried to think these less enthusiastic thoughts out of the range of her brother because she had never once seen him as carefree as he was with Bella. Edward, Celeste surmised, though not without his faults, deserved just as nice a story as anyone. There were so many ways the relationship could go wrong. Yet, Celeste sincerely hoped that the two of them would be happy, even though rolling waves of ill will were already brewing under the surface.

Today, that ill will came in the form of Rosalie.

Celeste noted that while the other Cullens were _adjusting_ to these dicey romantic changes, Rose was about two mind reading tricks short of going on a wild rampage. When Edward entered a room, it was common to see Rose leave the room with almost a crackle of disdainful energy surging behind her head. Emmett would inevitably trail behind, being the only creature in existence that had any chance of calming her ageless temper tantrums. Edward never said anything in these moments. Celeste had begun to wonder if these episodes bothered him at all.

* * *

A few hours before Bella was due to enter the Cullen home for the first time, Esme, Carlisle (who had the day off work), Emmett, and Rosalie began concocting their version of an authentic Italian meal. Celeste had been at Jamie’s house for the first part of the day until she was practically court-ordered by Alice to be home promptly at 3 P.M. When Celeste arrived home, she was absolutely stunned to see Rosalie in the kitchen helping cook and quietly wondered what sort of elaborate compromise had to be made for her to agree.

Rosalie was, by far, one of the better cooks in the family – only bested perhaps by Esme. Celeste could recall multiple times throughout her life when Rose had taken over the dinner responsibilities when Esme was out hunting or had to work on some architecture project. Rose always accepted her role as chef with effortless ease, thrilled to perform a duty that could be categorized as motherly. She would sit Celeste on the counter as she worked, swiftly stirring a hot pot of food and expertly deciding which spices would make the meal a bit more unique. Rose made sure to send a soft smile over her shoulder to Celeste as she worked – as if to convince herself the little girl was real.

“Try this,” she’d say, ladling soup, stew, or noodles onto a smooth cream plate. Celeste would grin a gap-toothed smile, gripping her knees in anxious anticipation for whatever new creation her sister made just for her. Her other siblings didn’t eat, a fact she found odd but that she thankfully ignored whenever she was met with anything edible. Celeste could not remember a single instance where she disliked something Rosalie had prepared for her – mostly because such times were rare and the notion that Rosalie was making anything for her possibly trumped anything disgusting about her food.

Little Celeste’s eyes would blossom into huge turquoise saucers as she spooned or twirled Rose’s special meal into her mouth. Rosalie would inevitably beam when Celeste would announce how much she loved this amazing new thing that her Rosie had obviously _slaved_ over. Rose would stroke Celeste’s hair, her alabaster cheeks pulled up into a nurturing smile and eyes shining with something that Celeste would not yet have words to describe.

On the day that Bella was to dine with the Cullens, however, Rosalie had no sign of joy or motherly instinct on her face. She was, Celeste decided, providing her cooking expertise purely to ensure that peace remained within the family. Rose and Edward had been at odds constantly in recent days – _more like weeks_ , Celeste corrected herself – Carlisle and Esme had informed Rose that she needed to act the part of a nice hostess for the sake of all involved. So there Rosalie was, doing her part, though visibly seething as she sliced through tomatoes and mushrooms as though they were made only of air.

Celeste warned Bella on Friday that her family would likely pull out all the stops for her first visit to their home. Bella, ever the wallflower, kept insisting that disrupting their lives was wholly unnecessary to which Celeste replied, “Bell, this is just who they are. The only thing scary about them is how welcoming they can be.”

Celeste then systematically lowered her voice, “Remember, they’re from a different time.”

When Bella and Edward arrived at the Cullen residence, they did so like two feral cats waiting to be mishandled. Bella was undoubtedly nervous while Edward appeared cautious, almost jumpy, which Celeste found entertaining considering his nature. _Oh, young love,_ she thought sarcastically at him, winning herself a humorless look. She had to force down an all too loud chuckle.

Edward formally introduced Bella to Carlisle and Esme first like the gilded age gentleman he still very much was at heart. Carlisle shook her hand gently, inquiring about Bella’s father, Chief Swan, as well as how she felt about Forks so far. Esme, if possible, was even gentler. Carlisle placed a relaxing hand lightly on her lower back as she complimented Bella on her lovely hair and kind eyes. Bella, in turn, complimented their picturesque family home. If Esme would have been able, she probably would have blushed from delight.

Celeste noticed that Edward stood back a bit during the exchange. She guessed that he was surveying the thoughts from the room as his gaze kept slipping to Rosalie as she tried her best to focus only on the last touches needed for dinner.

Emmett, who had been leaning against the counter near Celeste, suddenly made himself announced, clapping Bella on the back (without injury) and booming out his own special greeting.

“What’s it like putting up with this idiot?” Emmett smirked disarmingly, hamming up his dimple-faced charm that made Celeste see the innate mischievous spirit that lived inside his eyes.

Bella sputtered, “Uh, um, he’s not…”

Celeste came to her rescue, “Em, she already has to deal with me!” This made everyone laugh (Yes, even Rosalie) and effectively shifted the focus over to Celeste. Both Bella and Edward had grateful gleams in their eyes as they laughed with the others. Celeste stood tall with her hands on her hips, enjoying the attention she got when one of her comedic quips were enjoyed. _I live for this_ , she thought briefly before urgently switching her thoughts to something else so Edward did not invade her privacy any more than he already had.

At that moment, Alice breezed into the kitchen with Jasper following behind her like her own personal security guard.

“Bella,” Alice came up close and hugged the girl, her voice an ephemeral waft of air. Bella tensed but did her best to relax into the shivery hug. Jasper watched on rather intensely, making Celeste slightly uncomfortable due to his track record.

“Hi, Alice,” Bella greeted. She placed a nervous strand of hair behind her ear.

“You are just how I’ve always seen you. We’re going to be such great friends!” Bella looked like she might choke on her own spit as Alice said this, but Alice bounced to a different subject before anyone could manage to question her.

“Oh, Bella! This is Jasper,” Alice motioned to Jasper with her hand, waving him forward a couple of centimeters.

Bella waved her hand at him, “Hi, Jasper.” Alice nudged Jasper in the shoulder, trying to get him to shake Bella’s hand. The other Cullens looked on fitfully.

After a few seconds of communicating only through micro expressions, Jasper carefully extended his arm out to Bella. She hesitated a moment before shaking his cold hand.

“It is nice to formally meet you,” Jasper said. Bella nodded.

“Yes. It’s nice to meet you.”

Everyone’s anxiety filled the room, permeated strongly with Jasper’s own. When the feeling started to dissipate and an earthy calm started to set in, Celeste knew he had truly gained a hold on himself.

“Dinner’s ready!” Rosalie’s voice shot into the air through semi gritted teeth. Celeste could feel the other members of her family send Rose irritated looks but honestly, she forgot all about the weird situation taking place in her kitchen when the food was set out on the island counter.

Before she completely forgot herself, Celeste took a step back to let Bella choose her plate first. She might have argued when Bella chose the plate that had slightly less fettucine and sausage heaped onto it, but then her stomach growled, and all hopes of further manners were forgotten.

* * *

Celeste had eaten her way halfway through the delectable fettucine – savoring the sautéed mushrooms, tomatoes, and flavorful Italian sausage – when she first glanced up from her plate. She was used to zeroing in on her dinner to avoid the lengthy stares of her forever unhungry family. When she looked over at Bella though, she realized the girl was having trouble eating. Although they had the best intentions, her family kept studying the two of them like they were on exhibit at the newest museums for immortals. Celeste quickly swallowed her clump of noodles.

“Rose,” she said, “this is such a nice _human_ dinner.” Celeste fixed her family with a look so pointed; it might have well been a spear. They quickly busied themselves with warm blooded mannerisms – picking at their nails, glancing at the television mounted near the kitchen counter, pairing into other conversational groups. Once Bella was relieved of all the eyes in the room, she began to show a stronger interest in her food, even occasionally nodding or humming when she found something particularly tasty.

“The food is really good,” Bella stated of her own accord, drawing the attention of the room once again. “Who made it?” Esme smiled warmly.

“Carlisle, Emmett, and I. Though Rosalie is the true master chef of the evening.”

“Well, it’s amazing. Thank you.”

Bella did her best to direct the last part to Rosalie, though, Celeste noted that Rosalie’s presence was less than sunny.

“You’re welcome,” Rosalie delivered in a tight, clipped tone, barely looking up from where she was glaring into the shimmery granite of the countertop. Emmett placed a firm arm around her waist.

A few minutes of unsure silence followed as Celeste and Bella finished their plates. Celeste cleaned up after them both, rinsing off the dishes and placing them in the sink. When she finished, she sauntered over to Bella and Edward.

“Why don’t we go sit in the living room?”

Celeste couldn’t help but mentally giggle at the irony of that room title as everyone made their way downstairs to sit and visit.

It took a bit for everyone to get settled in, Edward and Bella had to position themselves so that Edward didn’t completely ruin the pleasant atmosphere by ripping out her jugular.

Celeste decided to sit near them on one end of the couch while Emmett sat on the other end – Rose perched on the couch arm silently fuming. Alice and Jasper leaned against the wall behind the couch, providing adequate space between predator and prey. Finally, Carlisle and Esme chose to sit on the other couch, directly across from where Edward and Bella were primarily seated.

“So, Bella,” Carlisle began, leaning his elbows onto his knees, hands clasped out in front of him, “I know this is all a lot to take in and I’m sure you have plenty of questions. What could I, or we, answer for you?” Bella opened her mouth, clearly taken aback.

“Well, Edward said that you only drink the blood of animals, that you don’t eat human food, or sleep at night.”

Carlisle nodded.

“I also know that humans aren’t really supposed to know about any of this and that’s why this is all so dangerous.”

“You are right,” Carlisle said, “This is quite different territory for all of us.” Bella raised an eyebrow, turning her head towards Celeste with eyes full of questions. Carlisle let out a reserved chuckle.

“Yes, Celeste is also human. I can see where my words may have puzzled you.”

“You didn’t seem very vampire-ish to me,” Bella admitted to Celeste affectionately.

“Was it the intense dance moves or soul crushing love of food that got you?” Celeste ribbed her.

“The dance moves, of course,” Bella laughed.

“I knew it,” Celeste replied, gesturing her hands with a theatrical flourish.

When they finished with their teasing, Bella turned serious again.

“How did Celeste end up with you then, if humans aren’t supposed to know about vampires?”

Carlisle and Esme shared a nostalgic glance with one another.

“Celeste’s human mother, a young woman by the name of Abigail Carrol, was my patient at the hospital I worked at in Vancouver, Canada. She’d suffered trauma to her spine, causing her paralysis. Abigail was in the hospital for many weeks, over which time we developed a sort of acquaintanceship with one another. My other patients would come and go, but she continued to stay, still immobilized from the fall she had had. When Esme would visit me at work, she would also make sure to bring in treats or flowers for Abigail as well.”

Esme squeezed Carlisle’s arm. “Abby was such a lovely girl – so kind and thoughtful. She had a sharp wit, too, which our Celeste demonstrates every day. I think about her often, I thought of her as a dear friend.”

“Is it safe to assume she didn’t… make it?” Bella asked timidly, discretely glancing at Celeste with a glimmer of sadness in her eyes.

Carlisle shook his head, his eyes downcast.

“Abigail was also, as I am sure you have gathered, pregnant. As the pregnancy progressed, the weight of the baby continued to press on her spine. She hemorrhaged, resulting in an emergency C-section. We were able to deliver the baby and stop the bleed. She was monitored closely for a couple of days, and all seemed to be well. Esme continued coming in to visit, often sitting with Abigail for hours at a time.”

“One day,” Esme recalled, “while I was sitting with her, she asked me suddenly why I had not had any children of my own. I tried to tell her that I did have my adopted children, but she waved away my explanation. We both knew what she meant. I told her that I was unable to have a child. Abby went quiet, her eyes quite somber – unusual for her – she asked me, ‘Would you like to have mine?’” Esme swallowed and looked down at her free hand. “I did try to reassure her that she would be alright, but she pleaded with me to keep her child if she did not live. I told her I would.”

“A week later, Abigail fell asleep and became still. No attempt to revive her was successful.” Carlisle concluded the cripplingly sad story with a sort of one-sided mixture of a grin and grimace. The silence of the room did not waver.

“That’s awful,” Bella whispered after a while had passed.

“We decided to adopt Celeste when it was determined Abby had no relatives or significant others that would come forward. Abby had yet to come up with a name for her baby and so we named her as our own. I knew right when I held her, that Abby had given me a gift that I could never sufficiently thank her for. It was insanity to bring up this human child, and yet we could not bring ourselves to give her up.”

“And we are certainly glad we chose not to,” Carlisle added, face brightening as he spoke of happier memories. “She has been our lucky, blessed girl from the beginning.”

Bella smiled and everyone paid Celeste a kind of miracle-before-their-eyes attention that made her feel like she needed to wave a magic wand and blow fireworks out of her ass. The latter thought was so crass that Edward visibly winced.

Bella’s brow furrowed again and the attention at once shifted over to her, “But isn’t it hard living with human blood so close to you all the time?”

“Not with the Bloodless Wonder!” Emmett joked, reaching across the couch to slap Celeste on the leg. The Cullens got a good kick out of that.

“Celeste’s blood is the rarest I have ever come across,” Carlisle explained, “It has no smell, and from what we have gathered over the years, no temptation at all. I have a theory that it may even be tasteless, but that theory has gone untested, of course.” Celeste smiled lightly at that, glancing down at her lap.

“That would be kind of helpful,” Bella nodded, clearly thinking out loud. She seemed to realize that she had spoken, for she ducked her head and angled herself a little closer to Edward.

“Don’t let Emmett’s nickname fool you, I really do have blood,” Celeste spoke up, feeling the need to clarify even though the clarification was largely unneeded. Bella’s eyes shifted to her, nodding absently in reply.

As the afternoon unfolded into evening, the conversation gradually brightened and the Cullens found themselves laughing along with Bella, even when she and Edward went off on their own (supersonic hearing had its perks). At some point or other, everyone had found themselves gathered into the living room once again. Thunderclouds had started to roll in by this time, and the prospect of a family baseball game started getting Emmett excited.

Celeste had to admit she was excited as well, the Cullens had been under significant stress lately and thus no baseball games had happened in the last couple months. It appeared Edward wanted to include Bella in the fun, too. Celeste had never had to share her family with another human before, and while it was a weird experience for her, she found that she secretly liked not being the center of attention. She ran up to her room to pull on her custom baseball uniform that had been made to match Alice and Rosalie’s.

As Celeste was pulling on her long socks, a sharp, concise knock came from behind her door. She opened the door a crack, taking a suspicious peek outside.

“Celeste,” Edward said, “would you mind finding Bella something to wear?”

Celeste opened the door wider, smiling easily, “Of course.” She let the pair have their moment, looking into each other’s eyes for a tragically long amount of time. _They’re happy, that’s all that matters – even if it means I’ll be stuck watching them check each other out for the rest of my life_.

Finally, Edward left the two of them together with a cautious nod of his head. _I think you can last five minutes_ , Celeste thought at him sarcastically.

“Perhaps,” she heard her brother respond through the thick door. Celeste rolled her eyes.

“So, why the thunder?” Bella asked, her interest peaked now that Edward had left the room.

“You’ll see,” Celeste replied, using the mystery surrounding her family to her own advantage. Bella groaned.

“You’re just as bad as him.”

Celeste turned to her in mock offense, “Bella, take that back right now!” When silence followed and both girls were on the verge of cracking a smile Celeste added, “I don’t have a massive hard-on for you.” The comment sent both parties into fits of rabid, hyena-like giggles that were strangely uncharacteristic for them. It would seem that the tension of the last few months had finally been released and cracked them – metaphorically, of course.

Minutes later, Bella was dressed in one of Celeste’s old baseball tops – the top was a couple years old and fit Bella better than Celeste due to her shorter stature – and a pair of stretchy athletic pants. Bella thanked her as they walked down the steps together to join the rest of the family.

The room was full of talk of the upcoming game, obviously determining their strategies to win. Celeste, in a flurry of motion, threw her hands up in exasperation.

“Shit, my paper!” Heads swiveled in her direction.

“I forgot I have an English paper due tomorrow. I’ll go finish that and meet you guys there!” She turned to run back up the stairs when Emmett yelled, “Your car doesn’t do off-roading!”

“I’ll make it work!” Celeste threw over her shoulder, bounding up the steps.

* * *

Knowing full well that their family games could last up to three or four hours, Celeste didn’t feel bad taking close to an hour to finish up her paper. She was supposed to write a two-page reflection covering the latest novel, _Wuthering Heights_. After getting stuck a page and a half in and a quick panicked call to Jamie for clarification, Celeste was finally holding her paper in her hands – that feverish sigh of relief sliding over her shoulders and chest.

Celeste packed away her things, feeling a mixture of anxiety and anticipation welling up in her gut. _Where’s my bag…there it is…the zipper won’t close…oh, finally!_ Her inward thoughts were their own chaotic storm. As she was forcefully opening the door that led outside, a vibration from her back pocket made her stop.

**From: Unknown**

**Don’t leave the house. The nomads changed their course.**

_What?_

Another buzz.

**From: Unknown**

**Stay inside, kid.**

_Is that…Garrett?_

“What the…?” Celeste whispered out loud, though no one was home to answer her question. Immediately, and without thinking about the terror stretching from the top of her head to her toes, she began dialing numbers. She tried her dad first – no answer, her mom – also no answer. She tried Edward, then Rose, Emmett, Jasper, Alice, and finally Bella – all her calls went to voicemail.

Celeste grasped her keys firmly in her hand and began to pace. She could leave right now and find out all the answers, or she could wait and see what the next hour would bring. Her pacing became more frantic. If this truly was a vampire problem, there would be next to nothing she could do…but this was her family. She would do anything if she thought it might help. Eventually, Celeste decided to wait it out, doing her best to keep her mindset positive while the next hour started to unfurl.

Twenty minutes later, she heard tires screeching and the garage opening. Within mere milliseconds, her entire family had piled into the living room – their eyes fearful and frantic. Edward especially looked unhinged. The sudden change in atmosphere coupled with the rapid entrance of her family took Celeste’s breath away. Everyone started speaking all at once and no explanation was given beyond the text messages Celeste suspected Garrett had sent.

A couple of minutes passed where jumbled, fragmented strategies were thrown around. The central theme, though, was that Bella needed to get away from Forks.

“That’s the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard,” Celeste found herself saying. The words had fallen out of her mouth at the exact moment she had thought them. There was no time to feel sheepish or look down, for every head in the room had found her like it was the first time anyone had noticed her in the room.

“Celeste, you have no idea what you are talking about,” Edward brushed her off. The muscle in his jaw twitched, alerting her that his agitation had reached new heights. The room became suddenly very quiet. Celeste’s own agitation grew. _Look at me, look at me, look at me_ , she repeated over and over in her head, just _daring_ her brother to say something else.

“WHAT?” Edward finally whipped towards her like a viper ready to strike.

“Would you stop being such a pompous ass bitch for a second and listen to someone else for a change?” Celeste would never admit it but tearing into Edward in that moment made her feel incredibly powerful.

“What would you _possibly_ know about out-smarting a vampire?” He scoffed. _Oh, fuck you._

“Oh, I do it all the time. It’s easy to pick up on when you live with _seven_ of them! If you race Bella out of Forks and this guy’s a tracker, he’ll find her no matter what you try. It would be better to just stay here and settle it now. The further away you go, the less control you have.” Edward considered this.

“Son,” Carlisle spoke up, “she has made a good point.” Carlisle looked like he wanted to reach out and put an arm on Edward’s shoulder but then thought better of it and put his hand back down. Edward sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose.

One of the sliding doors behind Celeste opened and closed.

“I found this one skulking around in the forest. He _claims_ he has information that could help you,” Garrett, of course, said this in a lackadaisical tone that was completely inappropriate for the situation. It was Garrett though, so Celeste was unsurprised. He looked the same as before, black clad and still scruffy as ever. The vampire at his side had lovely ebony skin and long black dreadlocks, his ruby eyes a startling contrast from the rest of his body.

Garrett’s lax demeanor meant that Celeste was relatively unaffected by his arrival. After living with Rosalie for almost eighteen years, Celeste had grown used to vampires that liked to make a grand entrance.

Before anyone else spoke Celeste asked, “Did you text me earlier?”

Garrett smirked, “Thought I’d give you a heads up.” Celeste thought he might have winked but if he did, it was too fast for her to be sure.

“…Thanks.” Celeste turned back to the scene in front of her, unsure how else to feel or reply. Garrett was the friendliest and weirdest “normal” vampire she had met. Any others with red eyes gave off the usual uneasy feeling that humans were supposed to get around the undead.

With this encounter over, Celeste began to learn that the three nomads that Garrett had warned them about had showed up in the clearing where the Cullens were playing ball. James and Victoria, two of these nomads, were sadistic and now wanted to play a game of cat and mouse with Bella, who they thought of as the Cullens’ pet. Laurent, the vampire with the dreadlocks, had come to warn the Cullens of their strengths and weaknesses. As the explanation ended, Celeste was thrilled that she had not quite made it to the game.

As Laurent took his leave, he caught a look at Celeste’s blue eyes.

“Another one?” He asked, clearly wondering about the company her family kept.

Carlisle stepped up close to the other vampire, his face transposed in a warning smile.

“Thank you for informing us about your companions. I will show you where you may leave.”

Celeste almost shivered with how cold her father had acted. _No one better mess with the family, I guess._

When Carlisle and Laurent left the room, everyone began talking again.

“So, what are we going to do?” Alice asked, speaking for what must have been the first time since arriving home. Jasper put his arm around her, drawing her into his side.

“I think staying here and facing James and Victoria would be for the best,” he said, always in that calm, Southernly stoic voice.

“Hell yeah,” Emmett exclaimed, “we’ll be ready for ‘em.”

Everyone turned to Edward, who nodded. Celeste glanced at Bella though, this poor girl that gotten into so much more than she could have ever bargained for. Things, Celeste believed, would get set right again.

They would just have to wait.


	7. James and Victoria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where it gets pretty canon divergent...:)

During the week that permanently changed their lives, the Cullens spoke only of James and Victoria. Edward had ordered Alice to keep the two nomads under constant surveillance while the others were on guard duty. Due to the high stakes of this operation, Celeste was the only Cullen attending school for the week. Her excuse to anyone that asked was that her whole family had come down with the flu. People would offer their groans of understanding which caused her to _wish_ the flu was her only problem. Bella came to school as well but was driven by Celeste every day just to satisfy Edward’s disgusting urge to have complete control over a situation that he really had no control over.

Garrett had stayed around, too, offering an additional set of heightened senses in between the times he had to run out of Forks to pick up his next meal. Celeste wanted the idea of him sucking some poor human dry to bother more than it did. She wanted to hate Garrett for giving into his vampire instincts, but she found the notion difficult. His relaxed nature and dry wit endeared him to her.

As it happened, Celeste was walking into the lunchroom with Jamie, her eyes shifting around to make sure she could see Bella in the room. When she found her, she turned her attention back to Jamie who had been staring at her with partial annoyance for the better part of two minutes.

“What, dude?” Celeste asked, voice slightly on edge. Being on Bella’s security detail was beginning to grate her nerves – if only because of the constant text updates she was required to send to her brother throughout the day.

“Seriously?” Jamie deadpanned; arms crossed over his chest which complimented the unimpressed expression on his face.

Celeste groaned, though still unapologetic, “Look, I’m sorry! I’m just stressed. Give me like a week and it will pass.”

“Shark week, huh?” He asked, like her bodily functions just explained _everything_.

“Why is it whenever a girl’s annoyed, her uterus is always blamed? It could be anything, emotions are just part of being human, you know - ”

“Cel, I’m not here to talk about whatever red substance may or may not be falling out of your body at this exact moment - ”

Celeste fixed him with a glare. Jamie ignored it.

“I wanted to ask you to prom.” _Oh, Jesus._

“Wipe that look off your face,” Jamie continued, unfazed, “I don’t like you like that. I just want someone fun to go with who won’t sit at a table all night. You are my friend, you are fun, you fit the criteria.”

“Oh, thank God. I was worried you were about to ruin our friendship. Of course, I’ll go to prom with you, Jay.”

“Sweet.”

“Though,” Celeste added thoughtfully, “If you ever grow the balls to ask someone out for real, you better work on your approach. ‘Wipe that look off your face’ has got to be the least enticing thing anyone has ever said to me.”

* * *

Celeste had been hoping to arrive home to a semblance of normalcy as she came in from the garage. At least once this week she wanted to escape the barrage of questions that awaited her upon arrival and sneak up to the cocoon-like heaven of her bed. Alas, the sensation of rushing wind on the back of her neck meant that such notions were to be forgotten.

“Did anything seem abnormal when you dropped her off?” Edward asked hurriedly, arms crossed over his chest. Celeste was taken aback by how close his face was to hers as she turned around. His concern for Bella had far surpassed suffocating.

“No,” she replied, mirroring his stance and folding her arms over her own chest. She tried in vain to shrug away from the manic energy pulsing around her – walking away from her brother to make a futile break for the stairs. He followed anyway.

Clearly, Edward had taken to ignoring whatever annoyed thoughts popped into Celeste’s mind during his relentless interviews because she had stopped singing the alphabet out of courtesy more than two days prior. As she stewed, she also tuned her brother out which led him to snap his fingers in front of her face.

_He might already be dead, but I’m going to murder him._

“What!?” Celeste exclaimed, stopping to stare at him.

“You weren’t listening,” Edward gritted out. His eyes darkened just slightly.

“Trying not to listen and actually succeeding in blocking out your voice are two very different things.”

“ _Celeste_ ,” he growled.

“Can you just give me five minutes to myself before you corner me?” Celeste fired back.

“Although I apologize for your invaded space, I unfortunately cannot fulfill that request.” His tone proved that he really felt no remorse whatsoever.

Celeste glowered at him while she pretended to think of a response.

“Did you - ” Her brother began once again, albeit more forcefully than the first time.

“Why can’t you just read my mind? It would be a lot quicker.” Edward pinned her with extreme eyes, his fiery temper flaring its flame.

“I would if it wasn’t filled with unappealing thoughts concerning the degradation of my character.” Edward may have looked close to murderous, but Celeste let out a slightly unhinged giggle and a sigh.

“No, I didn’t see anyone before school, at school, or after school. Yes, I made sure to lock the car doors when Bella got in and out of the car. And yes, I made sure she was safely inside before driving back home. Satisfied?”

Edward replied only with a curt nod before leaving the room entirely. From the way his jaw had been flexing, he had been trying very hard to keep a lid on whatever outburst was bound to occur within the next twenty-four hours.

Celeste’s fingers twitched – notifying her of how her irritation could manifest into something visible if she did not get out of her stifling house. She huffed to herself, grabbing her wallet, keys, and phone before stomping back the way she came. As she made a move for the door handle, she felt her mom’s presence ghost up behind her.

“Celeste?” Her mom questioned – a particularly worried edge to her voice. Celeste knew she would have to keep her reply brief if there was any hope of leaving the house without lashing out.

“Not now, Mom.” She had not turned around and she had had to shut her eyes tight as she forced the words.

* * *

Two hours later, Celeste sat in the passenger seat of her own car as Jamie drove around Forks aimlessly. She had needed someone to listen to her angry thoughts that wouldn’t interrupt her with some reference to philosophical moral code. Jamie mostly sat with his eyes ahead, letting his gaze slide over to her only when she was especially passionate. For Celeste, being around someone whose only goal was to listen proved refreshing.

“Do you want to grab milkshakes?” Jamie asked during one of her short moments of silence. His question had redirected her attention. Sugary milk beverages, though often her enemy after consumption, sounded like just the right thing to quell her tantrum. Celeste nodded vigorously.

“Oh God, yes. Please.” Her mind had begun wander to what flavor of milkshake she wanted.

“Just so you know,” Jamie said with effort, putting the car in reverse – in the midst of her rant, Celeste had not noticed that they had practically driven to La Push. The car jerked when Jamie shifted into drive.

Jamie cleared his throat, “Just so you know, I was getting a milkshake no matter what you said. Listening to you complain takes a lot of willpower.” Celeste smacked his shoulder.

“Celeste, I’m _driving_!” Jamie chastised playfully.

\--

Celeste’s mood had brightened considerably once she and Jamie had purchased their shakes. They walked out of the diner laughing. Celeste almost thought the oncoming stomachache would be worth the good mood she was experiencing. Jamie raised his Styrofoam cup filled with strawberry shake and motioned for her to do the same with her chocolate one. She had to hold back a snort when his eyebrows scrunched into a weird configuration.

“A toast, Mademoiselle, to new beginnings,” he said in a horrid rendition of a British accent. Celeste sarcastically tapped her cup against his.

“Are you even _in_ French?” she asked after taking a long sip from her straw.

“Sí.”

Celeste shook her head, “You’re awful.” They shared another laugh.

“I should get home,” she said. “I’ll drop you off.”

* * *

She had just turned off Jamie’s street when her phone started buzzing.

At first, she tried to ignore the tremors coming from the cupholder. Celeste did her best to avoid answering her phone or glancing at text messages while driving – it just was not a smart move, _usually_. A short stillness fell between each call attempt and Celeste found she had run out of decent reasons to avoid picking up the phone. Her family and her friend were in _crisis mode_ for God’s sake. She snatched the phone aggressively from the holder and answered on the third buzz.

“Hello?”

 _“Celeste?”_ Bella’s voice gasped through the speaker, electronic panic trilling into Celeste’s ear.

“Did something happen?”

_“He said he’s going to hurt you if I don’t go to him.”_

“Who said? James?” Celeste asked. Her fear and anger had begun their battle with one another. She had a growing urge to pee her pants.

_“He said he would kill everyone I love! I have to go!”_

“That’s exactly why you _don’t_ go!” Celeste yelled, eyes haphazardly watching the dark road. The line was quiet on Bella’s end.

“Bella? Bella, look, what are you going to be able to do to some super-fast, super strong vampire? He will literally snap your neck and suck you dry the moment you get close.” Celeste imagined that Bella flinched as she said this.

 _“Celeste,”_ Bella sighed, her voice hoarse from what Celeste could only guess was holding back tears, _“You shouldn’t all be in danger because of me. I have to go. I couldn’t – I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to Edward or any of you.”_ Celeste fought the urge to roll her eyes at the makeshift goodbye speech.

“Okay, this self-sacrificing shit is a little overdone. There’s a really simple solution here – you don’t go meet the murderous, rampaging _vampire_!”

Another silence lingered through the somewhat staticky phone call. Celeste felt her stomach drop to her tingling toes.

 _“I’m so sorry. Tell Edward I love him.”_ The call ended. Celeste swore.

“That fucking idiot!”

\--

Celeste tried to call Bella back three times but each time, the call went unanswered. She tried to call her family and even attempted to call the number attached to Garrett’s burner, but no one picked up. Her anxiety had pitched to an all-time high – this was worse than when Edward almost lost it in January, this was worse than Jasper’s innumerable temptations, _this_ was worse than anything she could remember.

Celeste had never made her tires screech before that night. The noise hurt her ears. She hurled herself from the car, running to her house through the evergreen night. She almost made it to the door when Bella’s huge red metal eyesore came into view. Celeste nearly toppled over from the loss of momentum. Running her hand through her hair, she took analysis of her situation. Bella was at _her house_ – which meant…James was at her house. _James_ was at her _house_. _Why hadn’t Bella said anything?_

_Maybe she hadn’t been allowed._

The thought planted itself firmly in Celeste’s mind. Bella had been vague during the call; it wouldn’t be so far-fetched to think that maybe the call had been monitored.

Celeste kept surveying the house, wondering about her best course of action. There was no way she could take on a vampire by herself, and it was clear from the dark rooms inside her home that no one was there to help. Although, if she waited much longer, her friend would probably be dead. Celeste cursed again.

She made her way to the back of the lofty garage, sifting through the metal cabinets before her sight settled on a gallon of lighter fluid. She grabbed it, praying she wouldn’t have to blow up the house before the night ended. Some rope, a crowbar, and a lighter caught her eye, so she threw those into her arms as well. Celeste wouldn’t stand a chance against James unless she could figure out some way to set him on fire.

Celeste swallowed some vomit upon entering her home. She wanted her family to finish whatever they were doing and end this crazed predator. She wanted so badly to be brave, but her humanity had set her limits for her. Her best hope was some sort of distraction. Biting her lip, Celeste began to check each and every room, searching for a sign of Bella in any of them. Each empty room caused her stomach to lurch – _what if he’d already killed her and stuffed her body in the wall to hide the evidence?_ She did try to vanish such thoughts from her conscience but found them particularly hard to shake.

The door to Celeste’s room stood open, the well-kept wood floors visible from her place in the hallway. Celeste tightened her grip on the defensive items in her hands. She hesitated outside of the doorway, allowing herself the final acknowledgment that she was _so entirely out of her element_ before courageously stalking into her bedroom.

Bella stood by herself in the middle of the room – her clothes completely unsoiled, her expression more one of confusion than terror. _Huh. Unexpected._

“Celeste?” Bella exclaimed, crossing the room with flurries of questions burgeoning in her eyes.

“I cannot believe you actually came here,” Celeste started with a scoff but softened her scowl when Bella cringed.

“Is – Is he here? Have you seen him?” she asked. Bella frantically shook her head.

“No. I – I haven’t heard anything.” Celeste nodded. The foreboding feeling in her chest told her that she had better stay on her guard.

“What did he say to you?” Celeste blurted, suddenly wanting to know exactly what kind of threats had been thrown her friend’s way.

“M-Mostly what I already told you,” Bella’s voice had wavered, and she had tried to shove her shaking hands in her pockets before Celeste could take much notice. The young Cullen threw her friend into a sloppy side-hug in a poor attempt to calm her. This girl could die in her house tonight. _She_ could die in her house tonight. Celeste had had dinner at Bella’s house, shared jokes with Charlie in their kitchen – how could she lie to him if Bella died? How would she ever look Edward in the eye if the only woman he ever loved was murdered in front of her? These problems were bigger than one seventeen-year-old girl, and yet – Celeste was their only hope for the time being.

Below them, glass shattered. Celeste cursed. _We have a front door for a reason, you piece of –_

More shards hit the floor downstairs and Celeste whirled her eyes around her room – _we can’t jump out the window, we can’t outrun him, we –_ her eyes found the closet. Her gaze flicked between the closet handle and Bella’s face twice. All at once, Celeste’s energy surged, and she forced Bella back with her forearm. The lighter fluid _thunk_ ed to the ground as she reached for the smooth handle with the arm not currently manhandling her friend.

“Hey!” Bella yelped as Celeste thrust her towards a rack of pants and slammed the door just as Bella thought to run forward. Celeste pulled towards herself, trying to maintain resistance while she wrapped the thick, coarse rope around the leg of her desk and the door handle. Bella yelled and slammed on the door with her fists on the other side. Celeste finished tying off the rope just as other creeping sounds started assaulting her eardrums.

A thick, cool presence had filled the room. Fear suffocated her, winding its prickly spires around her arms and throat. Staticky splotches fizzed around the edges of her vision, waiting to blind her whenever the malicious presence chose to strike.

Celeste had never seen James before, but from the descriptions she had received, the blood-drunk, windswept man before her had to be him. His posture was casual, like he was waiting for a show to begin. His black, soulless eyes surveyed her with a sick, knowing curiosity that had Celeste wishing she had jumped from the window when she had the chance. Broken bones must be better than _this_.

“It’s wonderful to _finally_ make your acquaintance, Miss Cullen. Victoria and I were disappointed we hadn’t received an earlier invitation.” His words were spoken with twisted amusement and his arms were folded behind his back as he observed his newest human exhibit. Celeste felt a terrified burn race up the back of her throat. James smirked as her heart rate sped up and he took the chance to start slowly pacing the room from wall to wall.

“You come from quite a remarkable family. So much power…so many ways to kill. And yet, they starve themselves of their true-life source, opting to keep little human pets instead. Interesting, isn’t it?” He glanced at her expectantly and she immediately located her voice to stall any violent occurrences.

“I suppose.”

James’s face screwed up into a smile that looked like it had been chiseled by a dagger – he was all points and corners.

“It is amazing, though, that with all their abilities, we were able sneak in here _undetected_.” He paused, taking the moment to send Celeste a slimy wink. “Of course, that little psychic always was rather weak. I knew her long ago, from her pathetic _first_ life. She was locked up in a hospital for her visions. I had tracked her for a while – her blood was so _appetizing_ – but her doctor had gotten to her first, changing her before I had the chance to taste…” James cackled lazily, like he had been recalling fond memories of old pals. Her stomach boiled.

“Alice doesn’t remember anything from her human life,” Celeste half-whispered. She had no idea why she had said it, but she was grateful when James continued talking.

“And she still chooses to deny her nature, when she has known nothing else? Intriguing.” Celeste’s head and heart continued to pound. _Keep him talking._

“It’s not without effort,” Celeste qualified, doing her best to keep him engaged in the idle chit chat. He flashed her an amused smile.

“You don’t require much effort, do you, little miss Bloodless Wonder?” Celeste’s eyes went wide. Only Emmett called her that. They had been listening…

“Victoria’s quite fast, she can pop in and out most _effectively_. It’s quite useful for gaining information.” James began pacing again, the sadistic smirk never leaving his face.

“Edward’s faster.” Celeste forced out. She hated James – she would not let him verbally reduce her family to a pile of cow dung. One of his eyebrows leapt high on his head and his pacing came to a halt.

“Is that so?” A new voice purred. A lithe woman with wild, blazing red hair zoomed into view, a demonic smile painted across her lips. _Victoria._

Victoria shared a lustful look with James before stalking over to Celeste like a feline ready to pounce. Celeste couldn’t help it, she flinched when Victoria’s ruby red eyes met her own.

“Where’s your little friend, Celeste?” Victoria asked. The slithering, frosty breath hit Celeste’s face and flew up her nostrils. Her eye twitched.

Celeste felt brave enough to say, “Clearly she’s not the real reason you’re here. Where she is doesn’t matter.”

Victoria’s hand narrowly missed Celeste’s cheek as she slammed against the closet door behind her. “That would almost be cute if she wasn’t right behind _the door_.” Both ravenous vampires began to finish advancing upon her – their expressions glittering with joyous hunger. Celeste was out of words. She hated how resigned she had become but she refused to cry or scream. Only stupid people in horror movies tried to fight monsters much stronger than themselves. She scrunched her eyes closed, feeling all her odorless blood rushing to her cheeks and forehead. There was only one thing she could do.

_Edward, if you can hear me, I need help._

James and Victoria laughed, their cold fingers stroked at her hair, trailing down the sides of her face and over the visible pulse of her throat. They leaned in close, their icy midnight breath wafting down her neck. They took turns smelling her, eager to determine whether the rumors about her blood were true. Celeste felt one hand go to her throat and she held back her air. She tried to pretend that she was okay with self-sacrifice. The problem, though, was that she wasn’t.

Celeste was _angry_. She was angry that these monsters wanted to kill her, she was pissed that her brother had to upend her whole life, and she was positively furious that some other human girl was safely locked away in the closet while she acted as some sort of shield. Mostly, Celeste was livid with herself for doing the exact thing she had vowed never to do. Celeste was the idiot of her own story – now, she may never have a chance to correct it.

The soul-consuming coldness vanished from her throat. Instead, a horrendous cracking resounded barely five feet from where she stood.

Six whirling forms had taken over the space before her, they were moving so fast that Celeste could not decipher who was who. Her parents and sisters stood in the doorway, supervising the damage from afar. That meant Garrett and her brothers were part of the swirling mess currently destroying her room. Her father sailed across the floor, opening the large glass window that led out to her balcony.

“Take them outside!” Carlisle yelled. All traces of his usual gentleness were absent. He allowed himself a worried glance in Celeste’s direction. The anxiety induced numbness in her body had started to recede.

Celeste slid down to the floor, located the lighter and lighter fluid, and shoved them across the floor to Rose and Alice. They looked at the items briefly, frozen with shock, before grabbing them and jumping from the balcony.

The fight continued, Celeste thought it appeared as though James and Victoria were losing. Somehow, the six bodies entrenched in battle flew out of her room and to the ground below. The rest lasted maybe five minutes. Two long shrieks of pain punched through the night. Seconds later, a defiant orange glow cloaked over Celeste’s walls, bathing them in an ember victory.

Celeste unwound the poorly knotted rope keeping Bella in her closet. From her kneeling position, she swung open the door. Bella sat on the other side with tears in her eyes but completely unharmed. She crawled out, wrapping Celeste into a fierce hug that Celeste did not know she was capable of.

“You’re crazy,” Bella rasped, “but that was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen – er, well – _didn’t_ see.”

Celeste laughed, “Are you mad that I locked you in a closet?”

“Maybe a little,” Bella snorted, “you’re certainly a force to be reckoned with. I might have a bruise.”

“At least you weren’t murdered.” Bella shook her head.

“Yeah. There’s that.”

The girls shared a laugh that only two people with similar trauma could share. They were still sitting on the floor giggling when the others reappeared. Edward swooped in on Bella, gathering her up in his arms, turning her face in his hands to check for injuries. It was, Celeste begrudgingly admitted, rather sweet – excessive – but sweet. She watched them with a soft drowsy smile, spent from the night’s events.

Esme rounded on Celeste, cradling her protectively to her side. Carlisle kneeled in front, flashing his pen light in her eyes to check for reaction times and lightly examining the rest of her for any sign of damage. Esme kept running her hands through Celeste’s hair, all the while resting her chin atop her daughter’s head.

“I’m impressed, kid, fending off two full grown vampires for longer than thirty seconds? That’s practically superhuman,” said Garrett. His droll tone broke the tension and most everyone gave a chuckle. Celeste grinned up at him, she was amused by his lackadaisical stance against the wall.

“What can I say? The bad guy always likes to gloat, you just have to keep them talking.” Garrett shot her a bemused quirk of his lips and a wink. Celeste rolled her eyes.

On her other side, Edward was staring at her in amazement. She knew what he wanted – she opened her mind, letting each scene from the last hour flow together, her inward thoughts and reality folding into one seamless stream of consciousness.

Edward left Bella’s side to gather up Celeste. His embrace was more than a simple hug – it meant relief, love, but most importantly, it conveyed just how _grateful_ he was.

“What,” he whispered against her ear, “did I ever do to deserve a sister like you?”

* * *

The events of the night were not discussed until the following day. Edward had taken Bella home, opting to stay with her as she slept. He offered his room to Celeste, noting that her own bedroom was not in functional condition and needed repair. The rest of the Cullens cleaned glass throughout the night and somehow acquired new windows to replace the ones that had been destroyed by James. Celeste slept restlessly that night – though she couldn’t decide whether this was due to the images replaying in her head or Edward’s couch digging into her ribs.

Around two in the afternoon, Garrett, Bella, and the Cullens assembled in the living room, each taking turns expressing their various sides of the story. After piecing together every narrative, they discovered that after Celeste had left for Jamie’s, James and Victoria had started running around town, playing with the holes in Alice’s visions to throw off the rest of the Cullens. At this point, James had called Bella telling her to meet him at the Cullen residence _alone_. Bella had said that she felt as though she was being watched during the phone call, and although she would comply with James’s request, she had called Celeste so that someone would know what had happened. Apparently, drawing Celeste back home had not been part of the original plan, but James was greedy – Celeste would have been just another human to add to his kill list. Celeste shuddered at this revelation despite being unsurprised. James had not come across as a very _human_ vampire.

While the girls were stuck inside Celeste’s bedrooms, Victoria had finished her never-ending trail in the forest – her desire to see James and make a kill ultimately winning out over playing follow the leader in the woods. As the others discovered the ruse, Alice had _conveniently_ seen James and Victoria terrorizing Celeste and Bella back at the Cullen home. From there, Celeste knew the details more intimately than she would have liked – she did not need them repeated.

Silence followed when the last person finished their tale. Everyone had to draw their own mental conclusions. The facts were messy, and the night had been the worst Celeste had ever endured but at least it was _over_. Thirty minutes passed before Alice flopped down next to Celeste with a twittering sigh.

“Well, now that _that’s_ over with, we _must_ talk about your dress.” Alice flashed her close-lipped, psychic smile and Celeste knew that whatever ideas _she_ had about prom would never be approved by her sister.

She looked in her sister’s amber eyes, darkened from her irrepressible thirst. She was reminded of what James had been telling her upstairs, not even twenty-four hours ago. One day, they would have to talk about it – the hospital, the visions, the doctor – but for now, Celeste would humor her sister’s materialistic whims.

“So, what color is it?” Celeste asked, not really caring about the answer but content that her feigned interest had caused Alice to emit spastic squeals of delight.

“You have a date?” Rosalie asked, fighting to hide her interest.

“Uh, yeah.”

“ _Who?_ ” Emmett bellowed.

“Um, Jamie.”

“Is he picking you up here?” Esme asked.

“We’re probably just meeting there,” Celeste whirled, trying to answer all of their questions.

“I think I should meet this young man,” Carlisle added.

“Uh - ”

“Are the two of you…dating?” Bella queried.

“Ew! No! Jesus, it’s _Jamie_!” Celeste exclaimed. From his corner, Garrett was stifling a laugh. In return, Celeste sent him the haughtiest glare she could fathom.

“Quiet, all of you!” Alice announced. She stood up, extending a dainty arm for Celeste to take. The mischievous glint in her caused a shiver to run down Celeste’s spine.

Celeste stared at the arm like it was about to swing back and hit her.

“Get up! We have shopping to do.” Alice made a waving motion with her hand.

“ _Now_?” A muscle in Alice’s forehead popped. For a moment, Celeste could swear she saw her eye muscle twitch.

“Shopping, Cellie. _Shop-ping_.”

“But I- ”

Alice swung Celeste up over her shoulder, ignoring her protests as she sauntered, nonplussed, to the door. Behind her, there were loud laughs at the sight of Alice lifting the much taller girl like she weighed less than a speck of dust. Celeste’s face smacked into Alice’s backside.

“ _Alice_!” she shrieked, “ _Put me down_!”


	8. The True Villain

Celeste Cullen did not hate shopping. She hated shopping with _Alice_.

Alice had dragged her – along with an amused Rosalie and a horrified Bella – to several boutiques that, had Celeste not been forced to enter against her will, she might have stepped foot in without complaint. As it stood, they had been gone for six hours already with no sign of stopping. This wasn’t their first trip either; they spent the rest of the previous weekend perusing the dress racks in Port Angeles, scavenging for the one dress that no store seemed to have. Of course, because Alice was some sort of sick exhibitionist with an obvious yet hidden agenda, she made Celeste try on about thirty dresses at each location before pouting indignantly (“But, I’ve _seen_ it! There is only one dress you can wear! Don’t you understand, Cellie?”). _Cellie_ , for her part, did not understand and at this point, was ready to duct tape some bubble wrap around her torso and call the deed done.

In all honesty, the shopping wasn’t the true irritant. Alice, in general, happened to be truly annoying her. Whenever Celeste asked what the dress looked like because, God forbid, she try to help _look_ for a dress resembling the one from Alice’s vision, she received no answer. Instead, Alice would sulk away from every store like a defeated child, purse her lips as Celeste tried on each and every dress, and give her “cute” little side-eyed expressions that read, This-Isn’t-The-Dress-But-Once-We-Do-Find-It-You-Will-Look-Fantastic. It was infuriating and stupid.

Celeste, despite having a broiling hatred for dress shopping with her psychic sister, did not hate dances. In fact, she quite lost her inhibitions when she bounded around with her friends in the crowded Forks High gymnasium, sweat sticking to her carefully applied makeup and her dress straps sliding down her shoulders. Dances gave her a three-hour long break from her bizarre, yet loving, home life. She always got excited about dances and felt no different about this one – though, that might have been because of a certain boy and his ridiculously wiggly eyebrows.

 _No_ , she did not like Jamie like _that_ , but Celeste was excited to experience taking a date to prom instead of assembling a large group of friends. Unfortunately, her having a date came with its own challenges – her parents, for one. They had been insistent upon Jamie picking her up so they could meet him properly. Her rebuttals and protests had been futile at best (“We’re just friends! It doesn’t matter!”, “This isn’t the seventeenth century, _Dad_!”, and finally “He has blood, you know. And…ugh, he just _can’t_ come here!”). She thought she had stumped them when she mentioned that he shared his car with his brother, Jack, and there was no way Jamie could pick _her_ up. Of course, Emmett stepped in and had the audacity to suggest that Jamie’s mother could drop him off and then Celeste could drive the two of them to the school.

“Come on!” she had hissed at him when her parents left the room. “Why aren’t you helping me?”

“Sloost, it’s my _job_ to rile you up. And, it looks like it’s working.” Emmett crossed his arms over his chest. His right dimple popped out of his lopsided smile.

“ _Emmett_ ,” Celeste groaned. A muted chuckle to her right caught her attention. From the corner of her eye, Jasper was stifling his amusement while doing his best to fade into the background. Sixty years married to Alice had made him almost perfect at camouflage. Jasper’s default setting was quiet assessment and cool calculation. Obviously, a chuckle caught Celeste’s attention.

“Jasper…” Celeste sang sweetly – something she had not done since consoling her parents over her tragus piercing. His lip twitched but he continued staring at a biography of Rutherford B. Hayes.

“Help me out here, is there any chance they might be relaxing on this?” Jasper looked at her fully.

“You already know the answer to that.”

“Is there any chance you could…you know…?” Celeste was ashamed she had even attempted to ask, and she almost choked when Jasper’s eyebrows scrunched disapprovingly.

“No,” he said firmly. Celeste just nodded, feeling silly. Of course he wouldn’t manipulate Carlisle and Esme’s emotions. His gift was not meant for her whims and fancies. 

“They are not trying to torture you. They love you. A man should meet his date’s parents.”

Celeste could not meet his eyes. She sighed, keeping her eyes fixed on her sneakers, and went up to her room. It was like she had seven parents sometimes.

* * *

In the end, they found the dress. Jamie stood in their kitchen, attempting to hold in his laughter as Alice bestowed her knowledge of color coordinating flowers upon every soul in attendance. Depending on who counted as a soul, there were either two or nine in the room. Everyone looked splendid, ethereal, ravishing – the list could go on, really. Celeste’s entrance, however much she may have wanted to downplay it, elicited the most praise.

Her dress was made of emerald green satin. It was sleeveless, but satin fell like gossamer around her shoulders. The bodice fit her well to the waist and then the gem colored fabric billowed and swished about freely. It showcased the edge of her collarbone, the curvature of her neck. Half of her hair was braided around her head like a crown, the rest curled and easing around her face and back.

Celeste did her best not to notice when Garrett gulped. She mentally winced, sure that her exposed flesh had stirred some thirst in her new friend. Her blood may be untraceable, but the pulse in her neck most certainly was not.

When Jamie turned around, they did not have a sparkling, heart fluttering moment. Instead, his smile grew wide and his eyebrows raised exuberantly.

“Dude, you look great!” _God bless him_.

Oh, Alice was scandalized. Her parents were confused. Garrett was amused. The rest fell somewhere along the expression spectrum.

Celeste grinned triumphantly.

“Hey, thanks…is that a clip-on tie?”

“Yeah! Isn’t it great?” Jamie made a show of taking the green bow tie off and wriggling it back on. Celeste snorted.

“God, best anti-date date ever,” she deadpanned.

“You really couldn’t do any better.” They tried to keep straight faces, but, in the end, they had to hold each other up through their fits of giggles.

\--

After several rounds of pictures that included Jamie and Celeste striking stupid poses, blinking in serious photos, and joking through the whole pre-prom ritual, they finally made it to the Forks High gym where they gladly met up with Sadie and Emma. The girls were each other’s dates. Sadie glowed in her vibrant yellow dress and Emma was sweet in her aqua one.

Celeste, Sadie, and Emma fawned over one another while Jamie made silly comments like, “Oh my God, Jamie…is that a green bowtie? It totally compliments your skin. Why thank you, Sadie – it’s a clip on. What’s that? You haven’t seen a clip-on tie, before? Allow me to demonstrate!” His mockery went mostly ignored.

“Jamie!” exclaimed Sadie. “Shut up!”

Celeste expected Sadie to sound angrier, more indignant even. Instead she shouted her admonishment with a giggle and a playful slap to his shoulder.

Celeste turned away. _Huh. Interesting_.

She made her rounds, weaving through couples and small cliques, greeting anyone she recognized. Mike and Jessica were dancing together giddily. They gave her a combined thumbs up as she passed. Jessica mouthed _you look hot_ to her before she could scamper away. _Best to leave the king and queen of the gossip mill to their own devices_ , she thought.

Angela and Ben danced with her for two songs – luckily neither was a slow dance that would leave her caressing her own shoulders – before she made her way back to her closer group of friends. Celeste wasn’t sure when it had happened, exactly, but Sadie, Jamie, and Emma had taken the place of everyone else. She sat with them at lunch now, spent weekends at their houses. While she still spoke to the others, it wasn’t like it had been at the start of the year.

For this she was glad. Her family had never been in one place long enough for her to maintain friendships. Now, as she neared her eighteenth birthday and the end of high school, she knew she could have friends on her own terms, without fear of a family member making a mistake and uprooting them early. She wouldn’t _have_ to leave with them.

Emmett waved his arms stupidly from across the gym and Alice joined him. Rosalie and Jasper were too engaged by their partners to spare her a glance. She rolled her eyes once before sending back an overly enthusiastic wave. The guilt of her prior thoughts was thrown into the gesture.

Emma and Sadie grabbed her wrists and pulled her back into their circle. They body rolled (Jamie insisted on calling it _gyrating,_ the sicko) and jumped, letting their heat-created curls whip around and absorb the moisture on the back of their necks. When the music turned slow and the dance neared its end, Jamie sidled up to Celeste with a goofy smile on his face.

Her arms were around his neck, his hands were on her shoulders, and they swayed stupidly to the music. God, how was it they could not keep from laughing in each other’s presence? Celeste bathed in the energy, letting herself fill with sweat-induced splendor.

“Tonight was fun,” he said, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the more serious couples.

“Amazing,” Celeste agreed. “And hilarious.”

“I thought your sister was going to eat me when I called you dude.” Celeste guffawed a little too loud at this.

“Strong possibility there.”

A beat passed.

“So…they’re really all together?” _Oh Jamie, no. Please, please, please don’t say it. Please don’t make this weird._

“It’s cool,” he continued with a shrug.

“Cool?” Celeste asked, mystified. He shrugged again.

“Yeah. I mean, you have to admit its incredibly unorthodox but…if they’re in love, I guess it doesn’t matter.”

“Jamie…are you a _romantic_?” She teased. The tension in her shoulders had gone.

Jamie was nonplussed. “What would be wrong with that? It’s okay to like love.” Celeste thought about this.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. I guess I just…don’t understand why people care so much. Isn’t love different for everyone? Why do we buy into all these notions about what love should be? I mean, I for one cannot _stand_ the thought of someone constantly touching me, wanting to spend all the time in the world with me. It’s like, love me but have a hobby.” She laughed uncomfortably at the end, unsure how all the words had slipped past.

“Oh, Sloostie,” Jamie crooned. “Are you a _cynic_?”

She whacked the back of his head.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I agree.”

“Shut up and go dance with Sadie.” Jamie spluttered, his eyes growing wide. He made a noise somewhere between a cough and a chuckle. _Worth it_.

“W-what?”

Celeste pushed lightly on his chest and motioned to Sadie and Emma with her head.

“You keep staring at her and turning into a spastic mess. Just go dance with her.” His mouth moved but when no sound came out, Celeste was unimpressed.

“S-she’s my friend – why would you even think – obviously spun around too many times tonight…” He had descended into a jumble of rhetorical musings that caused Celeste to immediately stop listening.

“Oh my _God_ ,” she exclaimed, unraveling from their platonic display and marching (but in a cool, calm way, _of course_ ) over to the other girls.

“Switch me,” Celeste commanded. The girls looked up in puzzlement.

“Why…?” asked Sadie, her usual blasé attitude in place.

“Jamie keeps stepping on my feet and seeing as your toes are still very much intact, I suggest a trade.” Sadie was obviously suspicious but turned her head to Jamie anyway. She shrugged and flipped her professional ginger curls over her shoulder.

“Why not.”

“Thank God,” Celeste replied, dramatically throwing herself in Sadie’s place.

“If I end up with bruises, you owe me,” Sadie threw out with a lilted grin.

“Obviously.”

When she turned her attention back to Emma, the shorter girl’s eyes were dancing with doubt. Neither girl said anything at first, instead choosing to jokingly clasp onto each other and sway back and forth. Eventually, though, Emma peered up at her through the soft brown wisps around her eyes and Celeste knew what she was thinking - mind-reader or not.

“Jamie’s not a bad dancer,” Emma whispered.

“Definitely not.”

“God bless you.” Emma let out a gasp of relief. “I’ve been trying to get them together for years.”

They turned their heads and watched their two friends under the artificial glow of the recycled lights, awkwardly shifting the weight from foot to foot. Jamie and Sadie were generally outgoing and could joke fearlessly. Now, they kept ducking away whenever they made eye contact and communicated only through stilted chortles. Celeste cringed just a little.

“You’d think they could at least dance as friends.”

“You’d think.”

“How long have you been working on this?” Celeste asked.

They shared a look. Emma’s eyes withered.

“Since eighth grade.”

“Shit.”

* * *

The after party roared to life in the dark wood-paneled basement of the Rivers’ home. Jamie’s parents had gone to Port Angeles for a date night which, considering the current hour, had turned into an overnight venture. Jack was out, presumably, with his date McKenna Hanlon – a girl that Celeste was on friendly terms with despite Jack being a total tool. They hadn’t heard anyone upstairs in the hour they had been there, so it was safe to assume there were no other occupants. If there were, well, they would have heard an unholy number of screams.

Jamie had broken the popcorn machine. Again.

“Jamie!” Sadie screeched, trying to shut the machine door before an amoeba of overly yellow, off-brand popcorn came spilling out the sides. Jamie struggled to find the power outlet to shut it off and The Movie Popcorn Night From Hell was unleashed. Celeste and Emma stood back and watched. Eventually though, as popcorn continued to fly about and embed itself into the carpet, Emma sighed and carried out an act of mercy.

She pulled out the plug.

Sadie and Jamie whirled around in a frenzy of dusty butter and un-popped kernels. Jamie spoke first.

“You knew where the outlet was _the whole time_?!” Emma didn’t even have the decency to looked abashed in the moment.

“Yep.”

Sadie growled in a decidedly non-animalistic way before chasing Emma around the perimeter of the dim basement. Celeste leaned into the bar top and plucked a perfect piece of popcorn from the laminate surface. Despite the unfolding chaos, she was glad to be in sweats instead of her dress. She was also glad that no one else had turned up to their so-called after party.

They had asked other friends out of courtesy – Emma had even awkwardly asked the other Cullens if they wanted to join – but no had one hundred percent committed. Then, when no one else had shown up to invade their little friendship square, they all breathed a quiet sigh of contentment. Not all at the same time – that would be weird. 

Things calmed down after Sadie jumped on Emma’s back, causing them both to topple onto the outdated shag carpet. The girls immediately started laughing and after cleaning up the popcorn explosion, the four friends all settled down to watch a ridiculous horror movie about man-eating robot chickens.

Celeste shook herself awake when the light of the TV glowed blue, signaling the end of the VHS tape. The last thing she remembered was watching a woman get her eyes ripped out by a particularly evil robot hen while mechanical roosters cranked out hypnotic music box-like clangs. She sighed and rubbed her eyes.

Jamie, Emma, and Sadie had also fallen asleep. Emma snored lightly on the floor; her face almost implanted into the carpet. Above her, Sadie’s head rested on Jamie shoulder, his arm ever so slightly resting on her hip.

Celeste’s knees groaned as she sat up and did her best to take the movie out of the VCR without any light. The bright digital clock told her that it was nearly three in the morning and while she would be better off staying at Jamie’s for the night, she just wanted to wash her face and slip into her own bed.

It took a few minutes to find her keys and wallet on the bar. She almost yelled out when she tripped over her shoes on the way upstairs.

Finally, Celeste made it outside and quietly closed the front door. It had been left unlocked, so she didn’t feel bad as she pulled it shut. Her car was parked a little way down the street because the Rivers’ short driveway did not have room to spare. She sent a brief text to Jamie as she walked out to the road.

**Heading out. Had a great time. The sound of wailing roosters scared me off.**

She hit send. And then something hit her.

Whatever it was, came from behind. The object was hard and from what little Celeste could discern, it had a curved rim. She heard the _clunk_ as it came down against the back of her skull. Her vision shook, her eyes felt like they might pop out of her head as she fell with her hands braced to catch herself.

As she rolled over to face her attacker, the object came down again, hitting her just above her hip. Celeste grunted, but still used whatever momentum she had gained to get onto her back. For three thudding heartbeats, her pursuer stilled. In the darkness, she could see it was a man – tall and broad shouldered – and that he had covered his face with a horribly modified ski mask. The holes where the eyes and mouth were supposed to be were practically only slits. In his hand, he held a large military grade flashlight. The beam of the flashlight acted like a spotlight on the asphalt, making it appear white-blue from the intensity.

Her senses came back. Using her arms to drag herself, she attempted to pseudo crabwalk away. The attacker advanced on her again, flinging the flashlight near the side of her head. Celeste wobbled, falling back to the road. The man came down on top of her, using one arm to steady himself and the other to grab for her throat. They looked in each other’s eyes for a stroke of a minute, but any identifying features were absolutely obscured by the blackness around them.

Celeste kicked her knee up and successfully nailed him in the groin. He fell on his side, giving Celeste a window to feel for where her keys had fallen when she hit the ground initially. He was still coughing from shock when she heard them jingle under her hand. She pulled herself to a standing position and began to run to her car, only barely registering that something warm and wet was running down her cheek and neck.

The car was ten feet away, her thumb hovered over the unlock button. A pair of arms grabbed around her knees and slammed her, chest first, into the rough street. The man flipped her over and pinned her thighs down with his knees. His hands wrapped around her throat fully this time, his thumbs pressing hard into her cartilage. Celeste smacked at him, punching at his chest. She tried to move her lower legs in a way that might jostle him or buck him off. Still, he remained.

 _Keep breathing_ , she thought. _It will hurt but keep breathing. Find a solution._

The air was starting to catch in her windpipe. The edges of her sight grew narrower. She kept attempting to kick, to thump on his shoulders. Haziness continued to assault her eyes. A dull ringing sang in her ears.

Celeste sank into the drowsiness. She was just on the brink. Resolution blinked out in the distance.

 _I could close my eyes._ She wanted to. But shouldn’t she fight?

 _It would be okay_ , Celeste thought. _I’ve experienced love, experienced a normal life like I’d wanted._

Then, even more somberly – _I could let go_.

She turned her eyes to her pursuer as her sight continued to dull. For an odd thirty seconds, the first lines of a poem were loud in her mind.

_Because I could not stop for Death –_

_He kindly stopped for me –_

_The Carriage held but just Ourselves –_

_And Immortality._

The Emily Dickinson poem from months ago. It _was_ strange that as Celeste died, her thoughts returned to an old school assignment. She considered it a moment – spending an entire twenty-five seconds considering it in reality – and felt the swell of burning resolve.

_I’m not Emily Dickinson. I don’t want to die. Not yet._

The man’s back arched. She heard something roll out from his leg. The flashlight. The tops of her fingers scraped across the ground as she grabbed for it.

_I don’t want Immortality. I want death. But not tonight._

Celeste swung the flashlight into the man’s temple in a curving arc.

_Tonight, I want to survive. Then, I want to live._

She rolled out from under the assailant as he clutched his head in pain. Once again, she located her keys in spite of the fear that had begun to short circuit her fine motor skills. Her dexterity was in poor form.

Celeste had her hand on the handle when he came after her one last time.

His arms encircled her waist, pulling her down to her knees. She kept a tight hold on the handle, refusing to be pulled into a prone position like the one she had just escaped.

“You stupid bitch! Just stay down!” _Never,_ she wanted to say. Oh, how she had fallen into the role of heroine. He tugged at her elbow, willing her to release her hold on the car. Her fingers began to slide off.

The force of his tugging caused her elbow to swing back with glorious force, striking him hard in the eye. He flew off her. She took the moment to stand, to punch him in the nose, to nail a couple more shots at his groin.

Celeste spared no time for her keys. She took off running, mildly aware that her breaths were hindered by more than just anxiety.

She ran down the street, cutting across yards, swinging around trees. She didn’t look back.

It was nearly twenty minutes later that the Swan house came into full view – not that Celeste could track the time. She could see the glow of the TV in the living room. The police car was in the driveway, its siren a symbol of comfort even when not turned on.

When the front door materialized in front of her, Celeste wondered, _when did I get here_?

Her hand smacked against the door. The heel of her palm made a loud _thump_ on the antique wood. She kept pounding. _Please answer._

Celeste heard the _click_ of the deadbolt as it unlatched. A disgruntled Chief Swan threw open the door. _Charlie_ , Celeste corrected herself, as she had been over enough in recent weeks to make the switch from formal to informal. Charlie’s eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. He blinked at her once, clearly trying to determine what she could be doing here at this hour.

He raked a hand over his face, digging his thumb and index finger into his eyes as if to manually rub the sleep out of them. Celeste’s body shook from relief.

Charlie looked at her again, really seeing her for the first time. His brown eyes widened at her appearance. She looked awful, but she had no idea just how terrible it was. Blood pooled in her blonde hair, trickles of it falling down her throat. Some of it stained her shirt. Already bruises had formed on her face. Her neck was beginning to turn a deep violet where her attacker’s hands had dug in.

“Celeste Cullen?” He choked out, his eyes conveying a thousand different types of worry. He looked at her both as a law enforcement professional – assessing her injuries and asserting that _yes, she had been attacked_ with every hardening of his brow. Yet, he also looked at her like a father would. His gaze held that gentleness that only someone responsible for more than just themselves could hold. Charlie’s shock and sleep wore off fast. He guided Celeste gently into the entryway.

“We need to get you to the hospital,” Charlie said. He turned as Bella-like footsteps clambered on the stairs. Celeste nearly wondered if her brother was just upstairs, totally unknown to Charlie.

“Dad?” She inquired, “Who’s at the – _Celeste_!?” Bella stared in gawky horror at her bloodied friend.

“Bells,” said Charlie with calm authority. “Call the Cullens. We need to get her to the hospital immediately.” Bella nodded and darted up the steps with barely a stumble – presumably to grab her phone and a pair of pants. Charlie turned back to Celeste, leaning in to better inspect her bruises. He kept a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He was asking her questions.

Celeste swayed. The lack of oxygen to her brain earlier, the blood loss, her falls, the running – it all started to bombard her senses. Charlie steadied her, ready to pick her up at a moment’s notice. Bella came back holding the police cruiser keys in her hand.

They communicated silently as Charlie took the keys with a grunt and Bella came around Celeste’s other side to guide her to the car.

* * *

Celeste had almost blacked out when the ER staff got her onto a cot. At some point, Bella had gotten hold of Edward and Charlie had been able to phone the hospital that they were on their way. When the Chief wants someone to be on standby, they listen – not that anything else intensely exciting was happening anyways.

She was wrenched from Bella and Charlie as soon as they made it through the automatic doors.

The nurses started her on an IV and oxygen. Her sweatshirt was ripped away.

She cried a bit then, as she kept slipping into uncontrollable unconsciousness. She wanted her mom.

People kept asking her to stay awake, but there was no way she could comply. The pain of the night wouldn’t allow it.

A cool touch and the scent of spiced cinnamon jolted her. Carlisle, her dad, stood over her, his golden eyes tight with blatant fear. Edward, Alice, Emmett, and Esme careened into the room like feral cats.

“Celeste, sweetheart,” her dad called her attention gently. It was jarring to see him so in control, so practiced, but positively burning with fury.

“Celeste, sweetheart,” Carlisle called again. “What did this?” Her voice squeaked as if to answer when two hands clasped her shoulders. _Oh God_ , she thought. They were holding her _down._ Her last reserves of strength were used to squirm against her captor. She would not let them take her. She would not –

“Stop! _Stop_!” A voice very much like Edward’s caused the hands on her to pull away. He sounded angry, but she couldn’t look at him. She only saw the ceiling.

There was a voice in her ear. It was very low, very exact.

“We will find him. We will kill him.”

She struggled, but it was the last time. _No. No, no, no –_

“We need to sedate her.” She never knew who said it.

Celeste’s thoughts turned to fluid. A giant swell of the sea washed over, tumbling her consciousness into a swirl of nothingness. She rolled into the current.

* * *

When she woke up, her first thought was not _what happened_ but rather, _I hope my family did not become murderers while I slept._


	9. Denali

Bella sat in the chair opposite Celeste’s bed, reading a rolled and worn copy of _Wuthering Heights_. It was difficult to determine the time of day. There were no windows in the room. Celeste’s eyes were still bleary from lack of use, and while she could tell she was in the hospital and that Bella was in the room, everything looked like it had been outlined by a hazy halo. Bella appeared to have been in the room a while – her legs were tucked underneath her, her scuffed converse touching the arm of the slippery blue chair.

A vase of light lavender peonies sat on the bedside table and, when Celeste craned her head just a bit, she saw a little paper cup holding her pearl drop earrings from the night before. Usually, she would have been wearing about nine earrings altogether – she had four piercings for her left ear and five for her right. She had recently gotten a tragus piercing in her right ear – that one was a reluctant gift from Edward, actually, for saving Bella weeks earlier. However, Celeste had decided that she was done putting holes in her ears. She couldn’t stand sleeping on her side with the earrings in.

Prom called for a simpler look, though. Thus, pearl drops.

Celeste went to rub her eyes, but the IV in her hand and the bandages around her arm caused her to stop mid motion. The movement caused Bella to jump and drop her book. The two girls stared at each other, stunned, as the weathered book softly tumbled to the floor.

“You’re awake,” Bella stated, her wide eyes beginning to return to normal size.

Celeste painfully cleared her throat. Her hand touched lightly at her neck, feeling for the bandages there.

“Y-yeah,” she rasped, squeezing her eyelids shut to push through the sparks of pain. The muscles in her neck throbbed.

“I’ll get Carlisle.” Bella leapt up. Her hands fluttered with panic.

“W-wait.” Celeste’s voice was barely a whisper. “How long?”

Bella sat back down and considered Celeste’s question.

“Less than a day. It’s about five p.m. now.” _Both longer and shorter than I expected. Odd._

“I should really get Carlisle.” Celeste nodded, not really looking as Bella left the room.

Celeste blinked hard to dissipate the fuzzy edges of her sight. When she opened them, her entire family poured in through the doorway. She jerked her head up in surprise and then winced.

They stared at her for an unnervingly long silence.

“H-hi,” Celeste’s voice whistled. She gave a little wave with her IV hand.

Carlisle glided over, uncharacteristically raking a hand through his combed blonde hair. His eyes were significantly darker than the day before. Celeste was reminded of a feral thing. Though calm and gentle, he could kill. _“We will find him. We will kill him.”_ Edward had said that, hadn’t he? Celeste saw Edward give an imperceptible nod from where he stood at the edge of her bed.

 _Don’t,_ she thought. He gave no sign of acknowledgement.

Carlisle shined his penlight in Celeste’s eyes, checking for pupillary dilation. He listened to her lungs and heartbeat with his stethoscope. It was all a show, a habit. He could tell these things without manmade machinery.

Once satisfied with her vitals, he touched his light cold fingers to the bandages on her head, appraising them with a sort of burning sadness. It was difficult for Celeste to completely comprehend what all his eyes conveyed.

He let his hand fall to his side. The others passed looks between themselves. They were waiting for something.

Emmett, unceremoniously and unexpectedly, spoke first.

“What _happened_?”

It occurred to Celeste how infrequently she had seen Emmett truly shocked or sad or angry. Emmett’s emotions were exceptionally regulated. Most days, he joked and smiled, living life with dimpled cheeks and confident remarks. When he _was_ mad (like the one time in middle school when Celeste had asked him to drop her off away from the main entrance), he gained a firmness to his voice and movements. An apology would usually fix everything. But, Celeste had to admit, never once in her nearly eighteen years had anything so catastrophic happened to her. She wanted to say something like, “What do you mean, haven’t you seen a corpse before?” but it felt wrong. _Too soon._

She woke up worried that her family had done something terrible to her attacker. Now, she realized, they were still gathering information. They were _planning_.

Celeste tried to wave him off with her bandaged hand and laugh away their fears. Her laughter came out broken and grating.

Emmett’s expression hardened. There was a resoluteness in his face – in everyone’s faces – that scared her.

“Celeste, dear,” Esme’s hand ghosted over her cheek to tuck some stiff hair away from her eyes. Celeste hadn’t seen her move. Seeing her mom was worse than Emmett. Her mom was tenderhearted and nurturing to a fault. Easily hurt. She really did not want to relive the night before in front of her.

“Maybe you could just _think_ about it,” Esme suggested. Her amber eyes flicked over to Edward and back again. Celeste gave a tiny nod.

As she let the previous night’s memories unfold, Celeste was silently glad she lost her voice. Saying the words out loud would have been much harder. When she got to the part where the man screamed at her to stay down, she involuntarily winced. Edward let out a snarl.

She rushed through the rest, aware that details were likely murky. When she finished, she tensed.

Celeste did not want to provide her family with any more reason to find her attacker. They were furious – something she could tell by their taut expressions and unnervingly cool eyes.

Edward pinched the bridge of his nose in agitation.

“Celeste, I understand your feelings but there is almost no way this will be ignored.” The others shot him questioning glances.

“She doesn’t want us to intervene,” he explained. Rosalie burst forth from behind Emmett.

“Are you insane?” she hissed. In seconds she was standing inches from Celeste’s hospital bed. Rosalie’s eyes were scorching with vehement hatred, the edges of her irises almost pulsing red. Celeste unintentionally shifted away.

“That man almost _killed_ you, and you want us to _ignore it_?” Celeste had almost used up her stores of bravery, so it took everything she had to nod in reply.

Rose screeched, and then she promptly lost her mind. The last few months had been a series of firsts. Celeste had seen her family angry, frightened, depressed – every possible emotion, really. The difference lately, however, was that she happened to be on the receiving end of the most intense versions. In that moment, Rose could be likened to a furious sea nymph – flowing hair and otherworldly rage abound. Her brows pinched menacingly and the gray light from above caught the glimmer of her sharp canines as she growled.

“I have never _once_ considered you to be a stupid human, but I am certainly considering it now. You cannot truly believe that we will let that vile man get away! How dare you minimize this – it’s insulting!

“I have never _once_ considered you to be a stupid human, but I am certainly considering it now. You cannot truly believe that we will let that vile man get away! How dare you – it’s – it’s insulting! How do you _think_ it feels to see my baby – my sister – bruised and violated, just barely escaping the morgue? You, Celeste, are a fool to ever _entertain_ the notion that that bastard scum would be left breathing. And if, by some nightmarish miracle, you have persuaded everyone to honor your wishes, I will still track him down and happily tear him apart.”

Rose gulped once, folded her arms across her chest, and raised her chin with defiance.

“With or without your permission.”

In an incredibly pathetic display, Celeste attempted to say, “You can’t. I’d never forgive myself if you killed someone because of me.”

Instead, she only managed, “You ca.”

From his place at the end of her bed, Edward’s eyebrows raised. The change of expression caused Celeste to glance over. _Do you understand now?_ He met her eyes briefly and a sort of ambiguous acknowledgement passed between them. Even then, she wasn’t sure what side he was on.

“Celeste may have a bit of a point,” his eyes were narrowed in concentration. Celeste didn’t think her thoughts were all that difficult to decipher. Yelling _don’t freaking kill anyone_ was fairly straightforward. 

“ _NO_!” Rosalie thundered, surging at him. “You hypocrite! Just _once_ you could be on the side that makes sense. But no, of course you have to venture off into lunacy!” Edward glared at her warningly.

“Rosalie…”

She rushed him. He gripped her shoulders to force her back. She struggled fiercely and Emmett came around to talk quietly at her side. Rosalie relaxed slightly but still glared at Edward out of betrayal.

“I cannot believe you.” Edward’s eye twitched. Whatever she had been thinking was certainly worse than what she had said.

Esme went rigid and angled herself protectively around Celeste.

“Rosalie,” she admonished in a voice Celeste had maybe heard on two occasions, “one more word like that and I want you out of this room. This is not the time.”

“I think,” said Edward when Rosalie had allowed Emmett to guide her to different corner of the room, “we should give Celeste some time alone. It would give us time to discuss.” The others agreed. Carlisle’s solemn nod confirmed the impromptu family meeting. His eyes were trained warily on Rosalie.

Reluctantly, Esme got up to leave the room. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered into Celeste’s hair before giving her a gentle kiss to the head.

Celeste leaned her aching head back to stare at the ceiling when they had gone. She had a lot of feelings about what had been said. Rosalie had called her _her baby_.

She knew her sister’s story. The abuse from her fiancé and his friends that lead to her death. She knew Rosalie’s strong desire for a baby she could never have. There had been times throughout her childhood when Celeste would catch Rose staring at her with inexplicably sad eyes. After she had learned of Rose’s origins, it was easier to understand the hidden meaning behind her longing glances towards babies in strollers and children holding their parents’ hands.

Celeste felt more than a little sick at the thought that Rosalie had desperately wanted to be _her_ mother.

Bella came back into the room then. She bent down for her book on the floor and took a tentative seat back in the blue chair.

They both fidgeted in the silence.

“Do you think they’ll really do it?” Celeste asked without taking her eyes from the grainy ceiling. She did not know if Bella was aware of her family’s plans or not.

Bella sighed.

“I think…” Celeste looked over at the hesitation. Bella rolled her lower lip between her teeth.

“They’re your family. I know what they’ve been willing to do for me – what they have done for me. What do you think they would be willing to do for you?”

Celeste must have looked horrified, because Bella gave her a weak smile.

There would be a dead man to her name, then.

* * *

Jamie walked into her bedroom with a video camera and an all-too-peppy grin three days later. Celeste had been kept an extra night for monitoring after the one-sided fight with Rosalie days earlier. Since then, she mostly kept to her room to (cowardly as it sounds) avoid Rose and agonize over any possible plan of vengeance that may be exacted upon her attacker via her family of vampires. Normal worries, really.

Then Jamie sauntered in with his silly eyebrows and ridiculously wide smile and Celeste wished her worries _were_ normal.

“Hey Sloost!” he greeted. His brilliant smile was immediately cut in half once he caught sight of her.

“Oh my God…” he stared.

Celeste grimaced. In Jamie’s defense, she did look like someone had beaten the crap out of her. Well, someone _had_ beaten the crap out of her. Bit redundant, really.

She had seen herself in the mirror for the first time the day before. Due to her injuries, she would not be able to shower fully until given the green light to cease redressing her bandages. Her dad thought most of them would be able to come off in a week or so. Her neck and face were swollen. Deep purple bruises wound around her neck and peppered her forehead, hairline, and cheeks like freckles. She only turned the light on once. The bright fluorescent bulbs illuminated her unusually sallow complexion and the brutal watercolor bruises that splotched her hips, chest, and arms. Celeste did not cry often, but she did as she pressed her tender flesh. She wondered if they would ever go away.

The scrapes on her knees were raw and angry, the layers of torn skin resembling pepperoni slices. She would be put off pizza for a while. The other facial scrapes were not terrible – she just had to hope they wouldn’t scar.

Honestly, the most cumbersome wound was the one at the back of her head. The force of the flashlight had split her scalp open enough for seven stitches. Luckily, those would be coming out in a couple of days – also meaning she could wash her hair _finally_. Interesting smells were beginning to perpetuate.

Jamie continued to stand in the doorway with a half-smile.

“It’s not so bad,” Celeste rasped. Her voice still had not completely returned. She had been advised by the medical staff (along with her dad) to limit talking for at least a week. So far, she was doing well. The specialist on call had scoped her for any signs of vocal fold hemorrhage. There was none, so her hoarseness was only temporary.

“You sound like you’ve smoked like five packs of cigarettes,” Jamie very helpfully observed.

“Thanks,” she whispered back with heavy sarcasm. Jamie seemed to snap out of his shock enough to laugh. He came to sit at the edge of her bed, resting the video camera on the comforter and leaning back onto his elbows.

“I’m sorry,” said Jamie quietly. Celeste scrunched her nose.

“It happened at _my_ house. I just – if we had been anywhere else, I wouldn’t be looking at the human version of Van Gogh’s _Starry Night_ right now.”

“Stop.”

“No, Celeste, your brother said you were downplaying this and - ”

“My _brother_?” Celeste asked incredulously. Jamie froze and then sighed with defeat. He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, heheh. Um, Edward called me actually. He said you hadn’t come out of your room since you got home. They’re all really worried. And I know you’re weird about me coming over for whatever reason, but I really think – if you still want to hang out, I mean – that I should for a bit. No one wants anything else to happen. Me too, actually. Ed said you might be mad that he called or whatever, but I really don’t think you should because he’s just looking out for you - ”

“Hey, Jame?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not mad.” Though – and she mentioned nothing out loud – when had Jamie started calling Edward Ed? It made her feel warm in a sort of perplexing way to think that maybe – _maybe_ – her family really had warmed up to some people in Forks. Some people that _she_ liked too. Normal people. Well, she supposed, categorizing Jamie as normal might be up for debate, but still.

“No?”

Celeste shook her head. “I’m glad you’re here. And, I’m not mad at Edward either. He knew what I needed.” She said the last part for her family’s benefit. She sent a mental smile downstairs. Jamie’s shoulders relaxed with relief. The poor boy had rambled himself into near panic.

“I really am sorry.”

“You really don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“I do, though.”

Celeste would have groaned but, you know, her throat felt like she had swallowed lava. Edward was right – she made excellent use of hyperbole.

She folded herself into a cross-legged position and put a hand on Jamie’s arm.

“Please stop freaking out.”

“I’ll agree to that, but know that I will still be silently freaking out.”

“Changing topics,” (Celeste would have used a sing-song voice here but, again, lava), “Why the camera?”

“Oh, yeah!” Jamie’s demeanor shifted to his typical hyperactive sugar high – just without any actual sugar. “Well, I thought that it is _almost_ our senior year – and now that you’ve had your near-death experience – that we could, I don’t know, document the absolute hell out of the next year. Maybe longer. What do you think?”

Celeste laughed lightly. “Are you a director now?”

“Ooh, I like that. Director Rivers.” Celeste made sure to look at him like he was nuts.

“Yep,” Jamie said. “Call me that forever.” She ignored him.

“So, are you gonna film me looking like this?” Celeste made a circling motion with her finger. She sincerely hoped no close-ups were in his immediate plans.

“Nah,” Jamie brushed a hand at the air dramatically, “I thought I would stand _all the way_ over there.” He pointed to the edge of her room by the closet. “You’ll be very small in the background.”

“Alright, then,” Celeste grinned at her best friend. “Let’s get started.”

* * *

Rosalie knocked on her door Monday morning with her eyes imperiously downcast. Even when in the wrong, her stubborn pride would not let her submit. Celeste loved that about her, though.

“May I come in?”

Celeste bobbed her head once in agreement. Rose swept in, back straight and head lifted regally.

Today was Celeste’s first day back to school after the attack. Her parents had kept her home for over a week. Jamie visited everyday with his video camera to make stupid updates or film the two of them doing homework. Sadie and Emma visited a couple of times to bring “Get Well Soon” cards and two pounds of dark chocolate. For all the more Celeste stressed over having human friends in her family home, her friends were heartily welcomed. Esme made sure to send them all away with full stomachs and plenty of leftovers. It was nice not having to worry about it.

She sat on her bed to pull on some socks as she waited for Rosalie to speak.

Eventually, Rose cleared her throat. Celeste continued to fiddle with her socks (they had lambs on them).

“I want to apologize.” _Want being the operative word_.

When Celeste’s gaze flitted back up, she saw Rose with her hands clasped in front of her. She wore nice fitted jeans and dark heeled boots that made her about six feet tall. Imposing.

Trying to gently clear her throat, Celeste said, “I get where you’re coming from. And I appreciate you wanting to protect me. I’m not saying there shouldn’t be justice…it’s just…killing really shouldn’t be the first option. What happened to retaining your humanity, maintaining the image?” Rose snapped to attention.

“The _image_ means _nothing_ without you.” The poignancy of her words made Celeste want to vomit. Why did she have to be anybody’s anything?

“And anyway,” Rose continued, “I wasn’t going to apologize about wanting to kill _him._ But, I am sorry that I upset you. My…temper can be difficult to control.”

There was a memory at the corner of her mind. It had been sitting dormant for years, maybe. Rose angry, Rose snarling at Carlisle. Emmett holding her back. Her turning around and hissing at Edward as he tried to intervene. There was no context, only a short scene played out from a child’s unsure memory. Celeste blinked back into the present.

“Do you…think of me as yours?” Celeste asked. Rose frowned.

“Of course. You’re my sister.” Celeste sighed, wishing she could just leave it alone. But she could not get over Rose saying, “my baby”. She had thought about it all week.

“No, I mean, do you think of me as _yours_?” Rose blanched back, some of her blonde hair swooping into her eyes as she did so. Celeste watched as she looped her arms around herself.

“I…have always wanted a child.” Celeste nodded along. Rose took a long breath in, held it, and then breathed out slowly. She rubbed her stomach lightly with one of her thumbs.

“At first, I thought Carlisle and Esme were making a huge mistake bringing you to us. How could we take care of human child? The blood, the constant temptation. It worried me.” Rose swallowed. “Of course, being the anomaly that you are, you had no scent. Esme handed you to me. You had a little swirl of blonde hair and you snuggled into my arms. I imagined you were mine. We have enough similar features that I…let myself believe you were mine. It has led to some interesting conflict over the years. Eventually, I had to let go of some of the fantasy when I saw how much it hurt Esme.” Rose became a swath of glossy blonde waves as she bowed her head to survey her nails.

“I will never stop thinking of you as mine, Celeste,” she said, her voice thick with venom. How to comfort someone so against comfort?

Another memory surfaced – this one closer to her consciousness than the other.

Up until middle school, Rosalie would do Celeste’s hair every morning. She tried to do something different everyday – anything from bows to curls – but Celeste’s favorite was a singular French braid down her back. She liked the feel of her sister’s fingers along her head, carefully running down the parts in her hair. Rose would hum under her breath. Celeste never knew the words to the song. The thing was, she would know the tune anywhere if it were to play.

“Would you…braid my hair?” Rose looked up. Her eyes glistened treacherously.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Rose picked up a brush and began to hum.

* * *

So, the first day back to school went a little like this:

People stared and then stared some more. Celeste did not feel like the cool Cullen at all. Her bruises were still ugly, her cuts had scabbed over. The most annoying thing was that no one _asked_ her what happened. They just gazed in wide-eyed horror. At lunch, Jamie, Emma, and Sadie all moved to an empty table near the Cullens so Celeste could still be close. Jamie flashed his camera around, causing Sadie to whack him in the head when he zoomed in on her pasta as it fell off her fork. Celeste was pretty sure it was the only time she laughed all day.

Celeste kept her head down in the literal and metaphorical sense for the last few weeks – only leaving the house to go to school. Her friends, however, came over nearly every day to work on homework, or talk, or yell at Jamie to _put the freaking camera down._

“Honestly,” exclaimed Sadie, “I didn’t even _shower_ today!” Jamie would put the camera down for maybe five minutes until something funny happened (like when Emma tripped into Celeste’s room carrying a bowl of sweet potato chips). Emma, who was one of those girls (so far) that never swore, cursed at him and jumped over the mess to assault him with the empty bowl.

For all the more they teased him for filming, Celeste was pretty sure they all secretly love the attention. Maybe. Okay…it could have been just her. Whatever.

When school ended in June, the Cullens congratulated Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper on yet another graduation. For Celeste, this was only the second time they had graduated in her lifetime. The first had been in her infancy so she hadn’t remembered. Alice organized a party for their family, although Celeste’s friends and Bella had all joined in as well. Garrett – who had not been seen since before Celeste’s attack – even made an appearance.

All the living room furniture had been moved to the edge of the room to allow for food, drink, and dessert tables. Steaming trays of French-style green beans, lemon pepper rotisserie chicken, and garlic red potatoes sat on one while water, teas, and sodas sat on another. Navy blue and gold accents were found in the table runners and ribbons tied around the silverware sets. A large three-tiered cake (Celeste teased Alice that it looked wedding cake-esque which caused Alice to physically remove her from the decorating committee) with a “Congratulations!” topper sat surrounded by a moat of cupcakes.

Her family had a small smattering of untouched food on their parchment colored Italian dishware. Celeste and her friends were, of course, on their fourth helping of dinner and a sizeable dent had been made in the cupcakes. Celeste had zoned out on a food-free portion of her plate when Garrett approached.

Sensing the air shift, she glanced up.

Garrett rocked back. “Whoa.”

Now, this should not be confused as a “Whoa, you look so beautiful” but more of a “Whoa, you look more like shit than I expected”. To human eyes, Celeste’s bruises had largely turned beige or yellow. The cuts were healing with each day. To vampire eyes, as her family explained, her body still looked weak, her bruises bright brown and gold. They could see where the cuts were still not quite healed, where they might scar. Celeste sat her plate down so she could cross her arms over herself.

“Is that how you treated ladies in the eighteenth century too?” she joked.

He chuckled, unshaken. “Kid, I owned a tavern. I could have had any woman I wanted.”

“Hmm, no. I don’t think so.” Garrett raised his eyebrows a bit. Celeste scrunched her nose.

“Too cocky.”

Garrett leaned back against the wall and folded his arms over his chest. He replied only with a nonplussed expression. Celeste scoff-laughed.

“You don’t seem surprised by the comment,” she observed. He took not one speck of offense.

Garrett shrugged, “If I’m good, I’m good.” Celeste shook her head at him.

Across the room, Alice’s eyes stared unseeing at a spot just above Garrett’s head. Garrett didn’t notice, but Celeste did. Acid bubbled in her stomach.

“Sloost,” Jamie’s voice said loudly in her ear, “Should I get another cupcake? I shouldn’t but I want to. It’s a terrible thing.” Celeste, who had had seven cupcakes at that point, poked Jamie’s stomach once with her finger. She swore it gurgled.

“Let that monstrosity live its dreams,” she teased him. Annoyed but grateful, Jamie almost went to pile more food on his plate when he caught sight of Garrett against the wall.

“Dude, nice coat,” Jamie commented. He sounded so twenty-first century it was painful. _Jamie,_ thought Celeste, _I swear to God, just get the damn cupcake._ She heard Edward’s quiet laugh from where he and Bella stood talking to Emma. _Edward, go away._

Garrett surveyed Jamie. Celeste shamefully wondered if he was overwhelmed by the pulse in Jamie’s neck or the warm, heady scent permeating from his veins. She wondered if he was in control. She wondered all this before she saw just how vibrantly red his eyes were. Even then, she panicked silently while Garrett continued to consider her friend.

Eventually, he smirked and spoke out of the side of his mouth. To Jamie, it would have seemed like Garrett was nonchalant and cool (which he was) but Celeste could see him swallow hard.

“Vintage. Eighteenth century.” Jamie absolutely thought it was a joke. Celeste kind of hoped it was. Wouldn’t something that old…smell? Then again, Garrett maybe had three sets of clothes. He almost always wore the same things. Always the coat, sometimes a leather vest, usually shirts that exposed his collarbone. She shuddered at the idea of his coat being well over two hundred years old.

Jamie walked away to get more food. Celeste turned to Garrett.

“Are you good?” She whispered, leaning in a little close. He nodded once, still fairly calm and collected. Not bad for a vampire on an all human diet.

They were quiet for a minute or two.

“Your friend,” Garrett whispered, nodding over at Jamie, “is so clammy right now, its almost unappetizing.”

Celeste lost all decorum when she laughed very loudly.

* * *

Garrett stayed with them for a while. Esme always had a guest room made up with all the more he came and went. Celeste discovered that, for the most part, if he wasn’t staying with them, he went to stay with her “cousins” in Denali. If that had been mentioned before, she hadn’t remembered.

As her June 15th birthday approached, Denali had come up in conversation more than once.

Three days before her eighteenth birthday, Carlisle and Esme asked if she wanted to stay there for eight weeks that summer.

“Not that I don’t love Eleazar and Carmen,” she replied skeptically, “but why would I do that?”

Esme sighed. “Sweetheart, you barely leave the house. And, as much as I want you here, I think Denali would be…good for you. For your mental health. You and Kate have always been close.” Celeste didn’t know why, but she wanted to cry when her mom spoke.

 _I’m so antisocial and sad all the time that they’re sending me away._ She knew the thought was stupid. Her parents weren’t forcing her to do anything. But that didn’t stop her from thinking it.

“I have a question,” Celeste said with a frown. Her focus drifted back to the open book on her bed. She had been reading Jane Austen’s _Emma_ when her parents walked in.

Carlisle furrowed his brow. “Of course.”

“Are you asking or telling me?” Carlisle and Esme shared an important glance. Carlisle sighed.

“If you don’t want to, we won’t make you. But we would like you to consider your options. It could give you time to refresh.”

It was one of those moments in life when the blinders come off. Celeste saw that she had been unhappy, hermit-like. The offer of Denali was the ice bath she needed to see how to get past her sadness and fear. Maybe she would go – and while not healed from the shock of being beaten, from feeling helpless – she could come back stronger. She could at least take the step.

Her birthday marked her last night in Forks for two months. All her favorite people attended (the same ones from the graduation party) and Alice transformed the living room into tables of catered food and a dance floor. There were three different types of pasta, fish, chicken, sautéed vegetables. Celeste wore the unused Spring Fling dress from earlier in the year. Alice made sure there was a big cake (to which Celeste exclaimed cake was the only love she would ever need) as well as little tins of blueberry tarts. Her friends treated it as more of a going away party. Jamie’s camera barely left Celeste’s face all night.

Her parents gave her a new silver charm shaped like the state of Alaska for the charm bracelet she had not worn in months. This prompted a ten-minute scavenger hunt in her room to locate said bracelet and a promise to wear it everyday she was gone. From Emmett and Rosalie, she received concert tickets for a band playing a couple days after her return. Alice and Jasper gifted her with several new clothing options to wear in Alaska. A few were soft gray speckled sweaters – a color Celeste liked to joke was the color of her soul because she owned so many of them. Edward and Bella gifted her a mountain of books for the journey, while her friends all pitched in for a polaroid camera she had been wanting. All in all, it was a good birthday.

Everyone left by one in the morning – only after promising to call, text, and email Jamie at least twice a day. Emma and Sadie had to forcibly shove him into the car to get him to leave.

The next morning, the jeep was loaded up with all Celeste’s things for the next eight weeks. Carlisle, Esme, and Celeste all said their goodbyes in the driveway. Her parents would be driving her to Denali and staying to visit for the first few days.

Interestingly, Garrett would also be in Denali for the next several weeks. Celeste found she didn’t mind the thought much.

Before she and her parents got in the jeep, Garrett said:

“The irony is, we’re going to a place where the sun never sets.”

Celeste couldn’t let it slide. “For only half the year. It never shines for the other half.”

“Sounds like my kind of vacation.” Celeste rolled her eyes.

Then he turned into the forest with a dip of his head and a distracted smirk.

The others stood in the driveway as Carlisle pulled the car away. They appeared wistful, hopeful even. Emmett waved his hands exaggeratedly causing Rose to shake her head but still offer a farewell smile. Jasper tipped his head with his arms clasped behind his back while Alice bounced overexcitedly on the balls of her feet. Edward sent calm smile. Eight weeks was a long time. Celeste expected to be homesick.


	10. While the Human's Away Pt. I

Celeste’s backside had grown numb by the time the car wound through the unknown roads of Denali. Despite the stinging tingles, she still turned excitedly in her seat to watch the landscape pass through her window. Here, the air was clear and lush. There were lands still untouched. Alaska was her favorite place she and her family had lived.

Here water like glass reflected the gray cliffs and jagged mountains. The clouds cut across the big, open sky. In the summer, there was no night and, in the winter, there was no sun. At least, for the most part. There may be an hour or two during either season when the sun either dipped below the horizon or rose during the day. For her family, this was no issue – no sleep to be hindered, obviously – but for Celeste this meant a summer of blackout curtains. Though, with the melancholy that had descended upon her, it was likely she gave this minor inconvenience rare thought.

The car had started on its final stretch when a dim smile appeared across Carlisle’s face.

“They’ve come out to greet us,” Esme said with a pleased grin of her own.

A few minutes later, Celeste was able to see the five members of the Denali clan waiting to receive them. A striking dark-haired couple stood hand in hand while three beautiful women with varying shades of blonde hair stood to their right. As Carlisle finally parked the car and the three Cullens walked up, one of the blondes – Tanya – stepped forward. The sun caught the tinges of orange in her hair. An outsider might think the true leader of the Denali clan would be Eleazar. But once Tanya stepped up, creating distance between herself and the others, it was distinctly evident who wielded the power.

 _Ah_ , thought Celeste sarcastically, _patriarchy is a bitch_.

Carlisle approached Tanya with ease.

“Carlisle, welcome,” said Tanya.

“Tanya,” he nodded. This part always intrigued Celeste – how two leaders greeted one another. The greeting set the tone of the rest of the interaction. Carlisle and Tanya maintained respectful distance from one another while some instinctual part of their mind surmised the other’s intentions. The stiff air broke when Tanya’s lips split into a wide half-moon smile.

“We’re so pleased for you to join us,” Carmen cut in, already making her way over to embrace Esme. The two lines denoting the different covens disbanded in favor of a large, mingled gathering. Celeste stayed back, suddenly feeling too drained of energy to match the surrounding excitement.

A legitimate jolt at her hip caused her to jump back into her skin. Kate wiggled her fingers, emitting the softest of curves from the side of her mouth. Her bright gold eyes sparkled with an analytical and bemused mirth. Celeste focused in on the soft blue electricity pulsing around Kate’s index finger.

“Not sure what I did that warranted an actual electrical shock but…it’s nice to see you too,” Celeste said, still wary of Kate’s pulsing finger. Kate laughed. She had a lower, huskier natural timbre so when she laughed, it rumbled like a brushstroke in her chest.

Kate laid a no longer charged hand on Celeste’s arm and briefly squeezed.

“It is good to see you.” With the touch of her hand and a hardening of her eyes, Kate made the conviction of her fury obvious. Celeste swallowed hard.

_I swear, if one more person touches me and gives me sad eyes I will turn around and sit in that car until they take me back home._

Bracing her thoughts, Celeste offered a tight-lipped smile that resembled more of a turtle retreating into its shell than anything genuine. Kate sensed this and removed her hand from Celeste’s arm. The others were still hovering around one another while Kate and Celeste remained apart from it all.

“It’s a shame its not colder,” Kate mused, “You could have gone ice skating.” Celeste’s ears perked up. In her many years of living, visiting, and wandering the Denali’s property, she spent many hours making figure-eights over frozen ponds. Her siblings would join sometimes – Edward would be a one-man band unless Emmett or Jasper challenged him, Alice would pull Celeste around or try daring flips, Rosalie was most likely to watch. The very first time Celeste had ever ice skated, Carlisle and Esme had brought her out, each holding one of her small toddler hands. Eventually, when she showed independent interest, one would steady her while she skated to the other. Her parents and siblings could have skated with her forever, but it was Celeste that stayed out in the dark daytime year after year. Emmett or Jasper would be dispatched to carry her inside when Carlisle began to worry about frostbite. Rarely did she come inside of her own accord. Eleazar began to call her Ice Princess or _princesa de hielo_ after about the sixth time she was forced inside.

“Guess I’ll just have to go hiking? Maybe swimming? Water is melted ice, it’s practically the same thing.” Celeste shrugged with a cheeky side glance at Kate.

“Hmm, I’m not sure you could get away with that. Professional skaters and swimmers would riot.” Kate peeked back at Celeste through her pale curtain of hair. Her deep-set eyes made her look like she had a sly secret. Kate had a calculating, warrior mind. Her shrewd eyes were constantly assessing and reassessing every situation. Celeste could feel her staring at her healing bruises, the scabs and pink scars that covered her face.

Celeste turned her face down, inspecting the dirt.

Eleazar suggested going inside to settle in and unpack, a suggestion Celeste grabbed at greedily to escape. She insisted on carrying her own bags to a west facing bedroom on the second floor. The walls were painted a light tawny brown that paired well with the rich cream comforter and miscellaneous bedroom furniture. Her bags were left to be unpacked at a later time.

Celeste stepped through French glass doors onto a balcony that had a wide stone ledge. She leaned against it, taking in the deep woods extending out from the house. The shadows grew darker the longer she lingered there, and it took the call of her mom to break her away.

Esme creaked open the door, knocking once upon entry. She beamed brightly at her daughter.

“Unpacking?” she asked. The skin at her throat glittered from a passing sunray. Celeste blinked the blinding sparkles away. No matter how many times she’d witness the vampire skin phenomenon, it was still jarring. And, God, just so _unreal_.

“Um, yeah. It’s going great,” Celeste flapped her hand in dismissal. Esme frowned.

“You’re not happy.” _I want to be. I’m just not._

“Moooom,” Celeste groaned, sinking onto the bed. “I’m doing my best to see your perspective, truly. But you can’t just expect me to feel better the moment we arrive. It’s…just sort of embarrassing? I could feel everyone _looking_ at them – at everything on my face. Even to me, the bruises and cuts are still a little visible. But to know that you can see even more than I can and that its so much _worse_ …” She trailed off, noting the growing worry overtaking her mother’s timeless face. Celeste sighed.

“I’m not saying coming here was a bad idea. I’m really honestly not. But, just a little space? Is that too much to ask for? I mean, Kate literally looked like she wanted to hunt down the guy the minute I was out of sight. And, you expect me to believe that a spontaneous trip to Alaska was ‘just for my benefit’? Come on. Like you’re not going to go right back home and plot some scheme that I’ll be blissfully and conveniently ignorant to.” Celeste had been motioning more and more vigorously with her hands and when she ran out of words, her hands slapped against her jeans. Esme joined her on the bed, taking a millisecond to smooth down the soft cotton shirt she’d worn for the drive.

“Celeste,” she said in a tone that was gradually descending into lecture territory, “all we’ve been giving you is space.” Celeste almost interrupted. Esme lifted her brow imperceptibly before continuing.

“Please be good to yourself. A terrible thing happened, and you have every right to feel however you want regarding it. I worry when you speak too little, smile too small, can barely manage a convincing laugh. Sweetheart, you are _allowed_ to be angry. You are _allowed_ to want justice. Now, I don’t agree with some that hunting down this man will solve everything. I don’t like killing. But, my darling girl, you are ignoring your problems. There are options. Chief Swan needs your cooperation for a proper investigation, we need your approval if you would prefer _other_ methods…” Esme stopped to shake her head. To close her eyes. “Vengeance, I believe, is not what you want. For that, I am so proud of you. Your heart, your soul is bigger and brighter than if I had wished it myself. You’re so grown up that I can scarcely fathom it. But, there will never be a single day that I won’t fight for you. For your heart and what’s inside of it. Let us do that much. Because ever since… _it_ happened, I cannot seem to find you. Your heart seems lost to me.”

Hot pinpricks of tears warred behind Celeste’s eyes before two defectors dropped on her lap. Her mind might have wanted to keep a tight grip on her feelings, but her body remembered.

“Momma,” Celeste croaked. This was too big to carry alone. Esme pulled her in. Celeste collapsed into her mother. Where most children would be comforted by warmth and softness, she gleaned solace from frigid air and sturdy arms. Esme acted as a cold compress for her hot neck.

“Please don’t hurt anyone for me,” Celeste cried. “I don’t want you to lose everything. I don’t want you to become less human.” Esme stiffened and pulled away to look at Celeste’s boiling hot face.

“You’re worried about _us_? Oh, honey. Your brother,” Esme rolled her eyes heavily. If Edward were there, Celeste imagined he might have cringed at whatever Esme was thinking. “It is not your job to preserve our souls. But it is our job to protect you. I will make sure the others don’t resort to bodily harm. We will act, though. That much is certain.” Celeste cried a little longer. Esme continued to hold onto her, occasionally rocking the two of them from side to side. A familiar, nearly forgotten ritual.

Eventually, Celeste sat up, wiping her cheeks with sweaty palms. “Okay,” she breathed out sharply, “I think I get it. I promise to trust you, as long as you promise to trust me.”

Esme pulled her in again, swooped a kiss into her hair, and chuckled softly.

“I promise, my girl. Take your time. I’m here when your heart is ready again.”

* * *

Celeste and Esme ventured downstairs later, after the redness of Celeste’s face had faded and the puffiness subsided. Carlisle sent them a strong tender glance. He gathered Celeste to him first, tucking her under his chin. He took in the scent of her shampoo – a very benign waft of vanilla and pearlescent soap – and dropped a kiss to the top of her head.

“I trust you’re feeling better,” he whispered, just for her. The others might have heard, but Celeste did not mind much. They stayed together for close to two minutes before Carlisle could bring himself to release her. Esme wrapped her arms around his waist shortly thereafter, the two of them sharing a thoughtful, parental glance. _Oh, the conspiracy_ , Celeste chuckled to herself.

She observed the others. They had interrupted some sort of discussion.

A new face stood out among the rest. He had long, black dreadlocks and wore multiple unbuttoned shirts that left his abdomen exposed. The long-haired vampire considered Celeste curiously. His muted red eyes kept searching her for signs of blood. Celeste had seen that quizzical look from every gold, amber, and red-eyed creature she had ever encountered.

“This is Laurent,” Carlisle explained. He glanced between Laurent and Celeste with a mild furrow to his brow. “He provided us with the warning that allowed us to stop James and Victoria. Our cousins have been teaching him our ways.”

“And he’s been doing quite well,” Irina piped in, almost overflowing with pride. Carlisle nodded in acknowledgement. Laurent continued to stare at Celeste like she algae grew from her ears.

“Laurent,” voiced Carlisle, “This is our daughter, Celeste.”

Laurent barely masked his horror. “Daughter?”

“I have never met a coven with such a collection of _humans_.”

“She’s not a candle,” Kate scoffed.

Laurent continued, effectively ignoring her.

“Are you not worried the Volturi will come for you?”

Carlisle’s countenance changed – just a shift of weight from one foot to another, a soft clasping of hands behind his back – but Celeste could tell he had gone on the defensive.

“Celeste,” pressed Carlisle, “as you may have noticed, has no detectable blood scent. I have not been in direct contact with the Volturi in near a century. I see no imminent threat unless you would like to tell them. That is, of course, up to you.” Gone was the usual kindness in Carlisle’s neutral face. He was not The Good Doctor but rather, The Barely Ruffled But Clearly Annoyed Doctor.

“I have no interest in reporting your petty trifles with humans – ”

“Interesting tone coming from someone who claims to be on their way to reformation,” Garrett cut in. He had blown in out of nowhere. Celeste started at his voice, noting that his eyes were now an effervescent red. He leaned lazily against the wall, coat collar upturned, one hand in the pocket of his worn jeans. Real, but also not real.

Celeste sensed Carlisle relax. Garrett smirked and then descended the short stairs with a laissez-faire type ease. How he managed to be anarchial _and_ blasé continued to confound humans and vampires alike.

Laurent blinked – just once and very robotically. “I see my opinion will not do much good here.” Irina’s brow creased and she moved near him to whisper something that Celeste could not hear. Carlisle cleared his throat and turned his kind eyes to Garrett.

“Always good to see you, Garrett.” Garrett materialized at Carlisle’s side to clap his shoulder in acknowledgement. He sent a nod and smile in Esme’s direction.

“Lovely to see you again,” she said.

“Nice entrance,” Celeste teased weakly. Her throat had gone dry from the crying earlier. Garrett winked and she rolled her eyes. These small moments never changed.

* * *

The next few days with Carlisle and Esme in Denali proved more trying than Celeste had originally considered. She didn’t want them to worry, she wanted to look like she was making progress. _Maybe_ if she carried on long enough, everyone would stop scrutinizing her every breath.

Days later, once her parents said their beseeching goodbyes and drove off into the unending daylight, Celeste was left with four very persistent vampires. Tanya took her swimming and hiking. She went hunting with Kate (from a safe distance, but it was something she would have to avidly hide from her thoughts once she went home). She turned the Denali’s kitchen into a warzone trying to make a traditional breakfast (a food fight ensued, Tanya lunged at Kate when egg found its way into her hair). Carmen read to her in the evenings like she was still a small child and sometimes Celeste would read to her, too. She and Eleazar went on long walks most afternoons. The long days left her exhausted with little time to herself. It was all very well-orchestrated.

On most occasions, Irina and Laurent were off doing their own thing. After the awkward encounter on her first day, Celeste couldn’t say she missed the company.

Garrett was often present but liked to watch from the sidelines. Sometimes when she caught his eye, he would smile at her like he knew everything going on inside her head. 

One morning, Celeste was up before anyone could barge into her room. She had donned a three-quarter zip athletic hoodie, leggings, and running shoes.

She wandered down the steps, wincing at the eerie calm of the house. Celeste prayed her shoes wouldn’t squeak on the floating wood staircase. With the back door in sight, she made a break for it. _Just one hour of alone time, that’s all I’m asking_. Somehow, she made it outside without anyone stopping her. She walked into the quiet forest, picking up the pace, willing her legs to break into a jog.

After thirty minutes of winding through tree trunks, Celeste began to slow down. She’d put enough space between herself and the Denali’s that she finally felt peace.

It was then, as she leaned against a low branch to catch her breath, that she heard a _crunch_ from mere feet behind her.

“Son of a bitch,” she muttered to herself. “If you’re here to kill me, could you just go away? I’m really not in the mood to die today. Please and thanks.” Celeste started walking again, acting like the noise she had heard meant nothing – even though she kept looking over her shoulder every few minutes. Her heart had finally settled when a voice from above said:

“Nice and quiet out here, isn’t it?”

Celeste actually _peed_ in her pants and that was not a gross exaggeration. Well, it was gross, but…God, gotta love homonyms and the never ending clusterfuck that is the English language.

Garrett (because, of course) was several branches up in a nearby tree, just leaning against it like he could have been taking a nap. He grinned at her, clearly half-enjoying the utter terror that was now soaking through her underwear. _Would it be too soon to wish that asshole_ had _actually murdered me?_

“I’m genuinely curious as to why you think its funny to sneak up on someone who has just been recently attacked, but you seem like the type to not really give a shit, so I won’t even bother.” Celeste remarked viciously. She turned away and started walking in a different direction.

Garrett jumped down from his branch gracefully and fell into step with her in seconds.

“I think I’m more hurt you thought I was out here to kill you,” Garrett joked drily.

“You’re annoying,” Celeste bit out, still reeling from the scare. What a stupid man.

“And you smell,” Garrett returned with barely a bristle.

“You scared me, and you didn’t even apologize. What part of your brain was like ‘let’s make jokes at her expense, that will fix everything?’ 1780 whatever was a long time ago. Men can’t just do whatever they want. Not that they ever should have, but yeah, whatever. I’ve made my point; I don’t need to keep going in circles.” She wasn’t looking at him. Her fingers had curled into her palms.

“This is the most riled up I’ve seen you in weeks. I would say I just did you a favor.”

“Whatever,” Celeste growled. “Not like I asked you to ‘restore me to health’ or anything. And this is an awful way to go about it so you can just leave me alone now, okay? Okay. Goodbye.”

“This anger feels a bit displaced,” Garrett drawled. Celeste let out an irritated scream.

“Yeah? Well, good. It should.”

Garrett stared at her with a sort of mocking expectation and Celeste just _lost it._

“Oh my God,” she yelled, “Just LEAVE ME ALONE!”

She again tried to stalk off in a different direction. Garrett crossed his arms and followed her, his face glib.

For several blessed minutes, he didn’t speak.

“You should keep screaming.”

Celeste stopped, whirled around.

“What the actual hell are you even talking about?”

Garrett gave an irritating shrug of his shoulders. His face said: _You should already know._

_I am going to crack him into a thousand separate pieces and set them on fire one by one and then —_

Homicidal tendencies aside, maybe this stupid patriot had a point.

“Scream? Like, loudly?”

He grinned from the side of his mouth.

“Do you need a demonstration?”

Celeste nodded silently.

With a sprawling grin, Garrett let his arms fall away from his chest. He let out a hearty, hollering whoop. Celeste thought it sounded more like a battle cry than a scream of liberation. Or perhaps, for him, this was a scream of liberation. A small fluttering started in her stomach.

She opened her mouth. Closed it.

Garrett turned to her expectantly.

“Ah?” Celeste rolled her eyes at herself. “Ahhhh?” She’d never screamed in the middle of a forest before, it seemed intimidatingly melodramatic when she stopped to think about it. Blood rushed to her face. She could feel the redness pulsing in her nose.

“I can’t do this,” she said. “It’s so ridiculous.” Garrett sighed.

Disappointedly? Mockingly?

Celeste groaned, “I’m not screaming while you’re here _watching me_!” Really, who _did_ this?

“So, if I leave, you’ll do it?” He didn’t sound so sure.

“Maybe!”

There stood a beat of impasse.

“If you promise to run far enough away that you can’t hear me, I promise I’ll do it.”

“Sure.”

“I will!”

Garrett huffed and inside, Celeste smiled all too triumphantly.

“Okay,” he shrugged. “Have fun.”

“I will.” She said it with a little ripple of defiance, and honestly, no one had ever mentioned how satisfying that could be.

Garrett gave her a dry nod, turned, and left only the rustle of pines in his wake.

Celeste blinked exactly three times and screamed. Loudly.

When she walked out of the forest an hour later, Garrett was waiting for her.

He’d heard her and she knew that. He knew she knew that. But, neither said anything. Instead, Garrett said:

“You look slightly less tortured.” He used a light tone and Celeste found she did not mind the comment. She hummed a response, eyes unfocused to her thoughts.

She felt less tortured.

* * *

Celeste existed in her newfound comfort for precisely twenty-three hours before she witnessed something that tossed her off-kilter. She recovered, though. Awkwardly.

She had just filled a green ceramic bowl with some cereal (cold foods only for breakfast, she’d decided, see food fight above). All her energy went into not letting any milk spill from the bowl. She wasn’t even looking up as she made her way into the living room.

She didn’t stand a chance.

And for God’s sake, why did she have to walk in on Kate and Garrett’s _new development_?

Kate was sitting on Garrett’s lap – nay, _straddling_ – and poor Celeste, it was all she could do not to dump her cheerios on the floor.

They ceased their efforts at her entrance both with equally nonplussed expressions. _Oh hey there,_ they seemed to be saying, _did you need something? A towel for the spit that just came out of your mouth?_

Gods above, what a position to be in.

Celeste, eventually:

“I was going to eat on the couch but clearly you need it more for what immortal banging you’re currently doing.” _Immortal banging? Why don’t you just say: Hey I see that you’re totally fucking on the couch, I’m gonna go die now. In the kitchen. With my spoon._ Honestly.

She left.

* * *

Funny the lengths one will go to avoid another. Kate was having none of it.

A week later, Celeste found herself in a similar situation. She was about to turn around and walk right back out when Kate said:

“Oh, for all the – I’m a thousand years old, Celeste. I’m allowed to have sex.”

So much for decorum.

Celeste wanted to point out that most people – whether 1000 or 18 – didn’t have sex where their family could just walk in.

Still, the discomfort did wear off. She and Garrett went back to their regularly quippy ways. Interactions with Kate went back to normal.

Even so, Celeste’s mind did wander. What was their sex life even like?

No, no. She shouldn’t think about that.

And yet, she did.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost of a story that I have started on FFN. Due to all the craziness going on over there, I thought I would activate my account here and post while I could. I'll post a chapter a day until I get to unfinished content. To anyone who has already read this story over at FFN, hello again! To any new readers, welcome!


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